


Meant to Be Mine

by usedupshiver



Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Divergence - Thor (2011), Friends to Lovers, He grows up pretty early in the fic though, Jealousy, Kid Tony Stark, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Magic, Magic and Science, Magical Artifacts, Messing around with timelines like whoa, Possessive Behavior, Pre-Thor (2011), Protective Loki, SHIELD, Teenage Tony Stark, Tony is a magical hacker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-13 15:26:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 69,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4527336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usedupshiver/pseuds/usedupshiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is certain that the tiny, mortal infant he finds in the forest one day is a gift from the World Tree. Someone meant just for him.<br/>As the brilliant boy turns into a man, and when everything Loki thought he knew falls apart around him, he comes to realize that they were, in truth, meant for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to celebrate the finished first draft for my Frostiron Bang by posting a thing that's been nagging to be written for a long time now. Guess I'm out of the creepy horror mood and into something softer and fluffier...
> 
> Since I'm back to writing sort of blindly as I go, everything from rating and warnings to tags may change along the way. Just a heads up.

Loki could hear the child crying long before he saw it, nestled in a torn and dirty blanket, lying among the roots of the Sapling. Only the aura around this shadow of the World Tree had kept predators away from the infant, screaming itself hoarse and exhausted in its distress. All alone, terrified and probably starving.

When Loki crouched by the infant, his shadow falling over it, the child's wailing turned to whimpers and hiccuping sobs as its huge, dark eyes opened to look at the man who had found it.

”There, little one”, he murmured, running fingertips through the child's impressively thick mess of dark curls. ”Whatever could have brought you here?”

He gently picked up the squirming little bundle, slipping a hand behind the heavy head to support it as he sat down and put the baby in his lap, legs folded like a tailor's. The child had stopped crying altogether now, calmed by the presence of another person. Loki murmured soothing nonsense, even so, as he unwrapped the blanket to see what state the infant was in.

It was a boy, he noted, and looked to be perfectly shaped, having all his fingers and toes, arms and legs all moving, no visible injuries. His naked body was as dirty as the blanket, though, and Loki was sure infants should not be quite this skinny. He was also smaller than an aesir child would have been, he felt fragile under Loki's hands, and he suspected that the infant was a mortal's offspring, born on Midgard. What was he doing in the woods of Asgard?

”Why, aren't you just a little mystery”, Loki told the upturned face, the boy's dark eyes studying his own face with as much curiosity as he felt himself. 

When the boy started whining, probably feeling cold now that he was exposed to the air, Loki wrapped him back up. Smiling, he reached a finger out to stroke the boy's cheek. At once a tiny hand came up to catch it, grip surprisingly strong, and pulled it in between the infant's lips. Toothless gums closed around it, a soft little tongue pressing against the pad of his finger as the boy sucked on it.

”Hungry, I see. Well, that won't feed you. But I can take care of that another way.”

The boy wasn't happy when Loki pulled his finger away, face pinching up as he was about to start crying again. Loki flicked a finger in the air and three points of green light flared up in front of him before quickly turning to butterflies. Their heavy wings green, tipped in gold. They obediently fluttered around above the baby, drawing his gaze, making his hand reach for the moving things, Loki's stolen finger instantly forgotten.

While the child was occupied Loki summoned a wooden bowl in one hand, and a gleaming, golden apple in the other. With a dagger from his belt he quickly peeled the fruit, cut it into tiny cubes, and then summoned a little spoon to mash it all up. Then he waved the butterflies out of existence, propped the boy up in one arm and tried to offer him the apple paste with his free hand.

It did not work well, and Loki soon figured out that the infant was simply too young to be spoon-fed. But then the child had already shown him a better way, so Loki put the spoon down, dipped his index finger into the mush, and offered the boy that instead. To his delight, the infant happily accepted the offered food like that, and even if it took a while Loki fed him ever single drop of juicy pulp from the bowl.

All done, Loki sent the dirty bowl and spoon away and moved around so he could lean back against the massive trunk of the Sapling, settled in the same hollow between the roots where the boy had been resting when Loki found him. The infant squirmed a bit in his arms, then yawned widely before the dark eyes closed and he fell asleep, a dimpled fist curled up by his red little mouth.

For a while Loki watched the child sleep. Then he tilted his head back and looked up at the green boughs arching far above them.

”He was meant for me, wasn't he?” It was just a whisper, but he knew the Sapling would hear him. ”Does he have a name?”

For an answer a single leaf, thin, bright green and shaped like an arrowhead, came falling down to land on top of the blanket. Loki picked it up and immediately noticed the way the faintly raised veins in the leaf had been shaped into runes, spelling out a name.

”Anthony”, he read softly, before a wind tore the leaf from his hand and sent it flying away over the grass. ”I like that.”

As Anthony slept, safe and snug in his arms, Loki wondered why the Tree had sent the boy his way. Why She had thought Loki would need him.

* * *

Upon his return to the castle Loki wasn't surprised that the very first group of people he met turned out to be Thor and his group of friends; Lady Sif and the Warriors Three. He swallowed a sigh as he saw Fandral's quick eyes spot him coming, elbowing Volstagg's fat gut and making them all turn to stare at Loki as he came closer, Anthony a still sleeping bundle on one of his arms.

”What have you got there, brother?” Thor's voice, loud enough to echo in the hallway, made the infant squirm and give a little mewling noise. Golden eyebrows raised, he looked at Loki's face. ”A baby?”

”Whose baby?” Fandral was leaning closer to look at the dark tuft of hair sticking out of the blanket.

”He's mine”, Loki stated simply, brushing Thor's large hand away as it went to shift more of the blanket aside, to get a better look. ”Let him sleep.”

”Yours?” Even though Sif's voice was soft, probably to make sure not to wake the boy, it was full of sharp, scornful disbelief.

Fandral sniggered by her shoulder, and Loki knew exactly what they were thinking. There were so many nasty rumours about him and his shapeshifting, after all.

”Yes”, he drawled, unamused, ”I ventured out into the forest and gave birth to a midgardian infant. You have solved the mystery, Lady Sif.”

They all stared at him, as if they actually believed his obvious sarcasm to be a confession of truth.

”You utter morons”, he muttered, shaking his head. ”It amazes me that you all remember how to walk and breathe at the same time. Or do you need to write down how it's done on the palms of your hands, lest you forget? Let me find out...” He reached for Thor's closest hand, only to have his own slapped aside this time. He didn't struggle for it, unwilling to jostle the child on his arm, and just grinned at his brother's scowl. ”I found him by the Sapling, you fools. He was a gift from the Tree. Now, if you'll excuse me...”

Not waiting for an answer he walked by the still staring group, to search out his mother. He hoped Frigga would tell him what he should do about this unexpected gift from Yggdrasil, because he honestly had no idea – except for what he wanted to do.

The queen was working on her loom when Loki found her, and her face lit up with a wide smile when she saw the baby. Cooing softly at the boy, who was awake again, she picked him from Loki's arms and cradled him in her own. Then she threw her son a sharp glance.

”You gave him an Apple.”

”Should I not have?” He knew she would see right through his innocent look, but then he wasn't trying very hard, and he soon let it fade into honest seriousness. ”He was a gift for me, mother, and a mortal. Without an Apple he wouldn't be able to exist in Asgard for long, or eat any of our food. He would perish, painfully. Would you truly expect me to stand by and let that happen?”

She gave him a long, thoughtful look. ”You could have sent him back to Midgard, you know?”

Loki bristled. ”He was meant for _me_. Whoever had him before were not taking care of him very well, and who knows where he would end up if we simply sent him back? He's mine. And for a reason. I simply... don't know it yet.” He deflated at the last admission, and only then noticed the warm, amused smile on his mother's lips. He sighed. ”You were just asking to see how I would react.”

”My capricious little boy”, she murmured. ”You flit from one interest to the other, living for something one day, forgetting about it the next. Are you certain this is not the same?”

And Loki couldn't blame her for asking, since he knew it was true. He could invest time and passion and all his energy into something that caught his eye for a time, only to abandon it completely when the next fascination came along. It was the way it had always been. But this was not like that, and he knew it already. Those things had been just that – things. Spells he could learn, weapons he could master, secrets to find and mysteries to solve. It had all been rewarding, in its way, but none of it had been _his_. Nothing he could truly call his own, even once a skill was learned it was still something others could master as well, if they put their mind to it. Anthony was not a thing, and no-one else could have him. He was meant to be Loki's, and Loki's alone.

”This is not the same, mother.”

Maybe it was the complete conviction in his voice, or the fact that it was such a simple statement compared to the many words he usually used, spinning silver around his truths and lies alike, until none could tell one from the other. Whatever it was, it seemed to assure her he meant it.

”Very well.” Frigga held the boy out, letting him have the child back. ”I will be keeping an eye on him, just so you know. If he's not cared for properly, I will intervene.”

”Of course”, he agreed absently, smiling down at the infant. ”But you will never need to.”

And Loki was every bit as good as his word. He made sure a room right by his own royal suite was made into a nursery, and quickly found a wet-nurse in the palace who could be trusted to take care of the boy. Even if the child was Loki's responsibility, he had no experience taking care of children and he knew the nurse would do a better job with the day to day practicalities.

Besides, he couldn't simply leave all his other duties, and they left him precious little time to care for a child who would need attention and care all hours of the day and night. What little time he did have to himself, when he was done with lessons, studies and sparring, he always spent in the nursery with Anthony. Who he quickly took to simply calling ”Little Ant”, since he was such a tiny, helpless thing and not yet ready to fill the expectations Loki felt came with a name like his true one. Although Loki was certain that one day, he would be.

While he waited for that day to come, Loki was there for Little Ant's first steps, his first word (it was a just slightly garbled version of ”Loki”, and he would never admit to anyone how that made him feel), and watched him grow up, impressively fast.

But walking and talking were skills any healthy child was expected to master. Loki soon found out that his Little Ant was capable of things far beyond what was expected.

* * *

Loki picked up the stack of reports he was supposed to read this morning, and flicked his free hand out toward the boy on the floor. A dozen bursts of green light turned to white butterflies, fluttering above the child's head on heavy wings. Just colours and movements were no longer enough to keep Anthony entertained, not like it had been when he was an infant, but Loki's magic still seemed to fascinate him enough that it at least kept him busy for a while.

He had made a habit out of reading in the boy's nursery, combining a mindnumbingly boring duty with one he actually enjoyed.

Halfway through the reports Loki glanced down again when he heard the child give a delighted, gurgling giggle. One of the butterflies had settled right on his tiny button of a nose and Loki couldn't stop himself smiling at the sight.

The boy had grown faster and more agile over the two years he had been living in Asgard, and now his hands flew up quicker than Loki had expected, catching the thing in his chubby fingers. He sighed to himself as he watched Anthony start pulling at the white wings, not surprised at the instinct to destroy, but still faintly disappointed. He had grown up watching Thor hack with his wooden swords at rose bushes in the garden, rip the legs and wings off insects, crush flowers under his feet, and he had never understood the joy of destroying beautiful things simply because one could. But then, he had never been like the others. Perhaps his Little Ant would fit in better here than Loki ever had?

That was when Loki took a more careful look at what the boy was actually doing, frowned, and leaned closer. It was not at all what he had first assumed. 

Instead of ripping the fragile thing to shreds, ruining it, his curious little fingers were gently teasing it apart. Not tearing it, but unfolding the rather simple strings of magic making it up, easing coils and knots out of the way. As if he was looking for something.

As quietly as he could Loki stood from his chair, stepped close, and sank to his knees behind the child, leaning in to look over his shoulder. He squinted to see every detail, and noticed how Anthony's fingers stopped searching when they found a particular twist in the fabric that made the butterfly up. With a pleased little squeal, the boy caught the twist of magic and turned it, just so. Then he promptly started pulling the spread out strings together again, folding them all up exactly the way they had been until they came back into the same shape as before. The butterfly looked for all the world as if nothing had even happened – until it flickered its huge wings and they turned from bright white, to bright, icy blue.

With a happy little whoop, the boy let the insect go and then watched as it flapped up to join its siblings, while he bounced on the spot and clapped his little hands in triumph.

Loki blinked up at the group of butterflies above them, the single blue one standing out so clearly among the white, and then he looked down at the child in front of him.

”Little Ant?” He slipped his hands in under the boy's arms and lifted him off the floor, turning him so he could place him on his lap, the tiny feet balancing on the tops of his thighs, and caught the child's happily twinkling brown eyes. ”How did you do that?”

”Blue!”, the boy explained, excited.

”Yes”, Loki agreed, ”and it's very pretty. But how?”

”Wanned it blue.” Anthony was starting to look uncertain now, his joy fading at Loki's serious expression.

So Loki made himself smile at the boy, realizing he would get no answer for his question, at least not today. ”Of course you did. White is quite boring, isn't it? That was very well done of you, my clever boy.”

When he had made sure that Little Ant was glowing with happy pride once more, he pulled the child closer to kiss the top of his head before he settled him on the floor again. He stood up, staring at the child's back without truly seeing anything as the boy pulled out his wooden horse and knight to play with them instead, butterflies forgotten for the moment.

That should not have been possible. Loki knew for a certain fact that the child had no affinity for magic what so ever. Both he himself and his mother had carefully examined the boy and his abilities, and there had been no trace of magic in him at all.

Altering another's magic was of course quite doable, but only by using magic of your own. Just as magic could only be countered or absorbed by other magic, or weapons imbued with it. At least, that was what Loki had been taught. What he had always believed. Yet this boy had reached inside and tweaked one of his own magical creations using nothing but his clever fingers and brilliant mind. It was incredible.

Loki returned to his chair and his reports after a while, but he was too lost in thought to make much sense of what he was reading. When the nurse came to look after the boy and Loki left for his meeting with the All-Father and his brother, he hadn't learned what he should and was predictably scolded for being lax. He nodded absently and promised to do twice the reading before their next meeting, surprising them both. It wasn't usual for him to take a reprimand so easily to heart. 

In truth, he was of course nothing but eager to get this tedious business over and done with, so he could go back to Little Ant and see what other improbable feats the boy was capable of.

Over the following years, they turned out to be many.

For the first couple of years he did nothing more than change the things Loki created, even though that was impressive just in itself. Shifting the colours of birds and animals summoned at first, then more advanced alterations, such as turning a rose into a tulip, and then a ferret into a fox. The animal had still been tiny, since Anthony had forgotten to change its size, but it was perfectly shaped and trotted away to sniff curiously at the corners of the room as the boy beamed.

When Little Ant was five years old, Loki also discovered that he was the only one ever to recognize one of his doubles for what it was. Which was startling. He could fool even the All-Father with them, so long as they didn't have to perform any complicated tasks or speak too much, since that took more focus than he could handle, especially if the real Loki was busy at the same time. Which was most often the reason he sent a double to begin with.

He sent one to wish Little Ant good night on an occasion when he couldn't leave a drawn out, dreadfully boring dinner with his family and three emissaries from Alfheim. Tucking the boy in and talking to him for a little bit before he fell asleep, while still sipping his glass of wine and smiling blandly, would be no challenge at all. Or so he thought, until his double settled beside Anthony's bed and the child stared at him, eyes huge and soon flooding with tears, his plump bottom lip trembling.

”Why isn't Loki here?” There was a shrill note in his voice. ”You're scary! I want Loki!” Double tracks of tears spilled down his cheeks. ”Go away!”

He dropped down on the mattress, pulling his duvet over his head, hiding, and all Loki's attempts to lure him out, to convince him that he _was_ Loki, were in vain. The boy just cried harder, alernating between yelling at him to go away, and calling for Loki.

In the end he had to excuse himself from the table, making up some lie about not feeling well. A quick exchange of looks with Frigga told him she knew it was a lie, but the almost impreceptible nod she gave him also told him she understood there was somewhere else he needed to be.

Loki almost ran to Little Ant's room, hurried up to the bed, shoved his double aside, making it disappear from where it had still been standing, staring dumbly, and gently but firmly pulled the duvet down so he could see the boy's red little face, wet with tears and snot. He didn't even care that both rubbed off on his robes when the boy flew into his arms, pressing his face into his chest.

”Where were you?!” He clung on to the back of Loki's clothes, crying so hard his words could barely be understood. ”Who was the other one?”

For a while Loki just rocked him gently, stroking his hair and making hushing noises, until he calmed down enough that it was likely he would actually hear what Loki told him.

”You were right, Little Ant, I wasn't really here before.”

The boy looked up at him, eyes blood-shot, long lashes stuck together with tears, hair a wilder mess than ever. ”Who was?”

”We can call him a shadow of mine.” Loki smoothed the thick, brown hair down a little. ”He looks like me, and everything he sees and hears, I see and hear, and every word he says, everything he does, comes from me. He's not real, not really there, but he's still part of me. So he would never, ever hurt you.” He slipped a finger under the boy's chin, making their eyes meet firmly. ”Do you understand?”

Little Ant nodded, but then he pouted. ”I don't like him. He feels empty. Like under the bed.”

”In a way, he is. He's makebelief. Just like the things you thought were living under there, remember? But he's really just me.”

”Will he come back?” The boy's eyebrows bunched together at the questsion, clearly worried.

”He might. But I promise that will only happen if I need to be here, and absolutely cannot come to you myself.”

He seemed to mull this over for a few moments, then he nodded, and then yawned widely.

”Now then, let's get you to bed properly, hm?”

Little Ant fell asleep barely a heartbeat after Loki got him cleaned up and tucked in, and as the prince watched the child sleep, he wondered how many more skills and secrets were hidden inside that precious little head of his.


	2. Chapter 2

”Loki?”

”Hmm?”

The prince didn't even open his eyes where he was stretched out on his back in the tall grass of an open field. He had been granted a day free of all his usual responsibilities and had decided to take Little Ant with him to practice his archery outside of the yard. It had taken the boy a while to learn how to compensate for the wind, to not be distracted by the sun in his eyes or the rustle of leaves or birds singing in the distance, but then he had done very well.

Little Ant had been living in Asgard for a decade now, and even with the Apple strengthening his mortal body, he would never be able to compete with the aesir when it came to power or speed. The bow offered him an opportunity to master a weapon that required him to do neither, more reliant on agility and and a good eye. Anthony had both, and Loki had encouraged him to pursue this skill over the sword or the warhammer. 

”Who were my parents?”

That made Loki squint his eyes open against the now low afternoon sun, finding Little Ant sitting in the grass beside him, arms tightly hugging his legs to his chest. There was a line between his eyebrows, and Loki didn't like the look of it.

”Come here.” He hooked an arm around the boy's back and pulled, toppling him over on the ground with an indignant little squeak. Grumbling, he still tucked himself in by Loki's side, head on his shoulder while Loki's arm stayed around his back. ”They were midgardian. Just like you, Little Ant.”

”I know _that_. There's got to be more to it, though.”

”I'm sure there is”, Loki agreed, holding him a little closer. ”Unfortunately, I don't know more than that. If I had found you on Midgard perhaps I would have known more. But I didn't know to go looking for you, so you had to come here instead.”

There followed a long silence, so full of whirring thoughts that Loki could almost hear them, or feel them vibrate inside the boy's busy head.

”That means...”, Little Ant swallowed, ”that you didn't really want me. Doesn't it?”

Loki turned his head, but the only thing he could see of the boy was brown curls, messy and with a few scraps of grass caught in them from playing around on the field. He slipped his free hand in under the boy's chin and pushed it up until he could see his face. Little Ant's brown eyes were too liquid, his red lips so tightly pressed together they nearly turned white.

”That is not what it means, my Little Ant. It means that I always wanted you, but never knew it until I had already found you.” He smiled. ”And wasn't _that_ lucky? Otherwise, I would have had to miss you for over eight centuries, waiting for you to be born.”

His eyes were still wet, but at least Little Ant returned the smile. ”That _would_ have been bad. You're no good at waiting.”

”Are you calling me impatient?”

”No.” The boy's smile turned to a grin. ”I'm calling you spoiled.”

Loki blinked and gaped in mock outrage. ”You take that back!”

”Never in a million years!” The brown eyes were starting to go bright with something other than tears.

”Well, then you must pay the price for insulting a prince...” Before the words were fully out of his mouth, Loki's fingers curled into Little Ant's waist, tickling at his soft middle.

With a shriek, the boy tried to roll away, escape the wriggling fingers in his side. But it was hopeless. Loki, much faster and with a far superior reach, just rolled after, held on, pinned him down, and used his long fingers to cover Little Ant's belly and chest in tickles, more or less all of it at the same time. The child really was tiny.

Little Ant tried to fight back, giggling and shouting and gasping and squealing all at once, but it wasn't long before he had to admit defeat. ”I take it back!” He could barely catch enough breath to speak. ”Please, Loki, I take it back!”

Grinning, Loki pulled his hands back and left the boy in a panting, useless heap on the ground, instinctively rolling over to profect his belly. ”That was not a million years.”

”Well, it felt like it was”, the boy whined.

”Poor Little Ant.”

The boy stuck his tongue out, not even having the strength left to lift his head off the ground and turn it toward Loki. Which meant his pink little tongue got covered in grass, some dry pieces sticking to it as he pulled it back inside his head. Sputtering, he sat up and brushed a hand over his mouth to get it clean, while Loki laughed so hard he doubled over.

As they at last picked themselves up off the ground, retrieved their bows and slowly returned to the palace so they would arrive back there in time for dinner, Loki reflected on how it was so easy to forget that his brilliant, talented, marvelous Little Ant was after all just a boy. A young child just as capable of being playful and silly as he was of doing things with Loki's magic that should be impossible for him to manage.

Loki found that both sides of Little Ant made him happy. The carefree, joyful side seemed to balance the intense focus the boy put into his continuing experiments in altering magic creations. Bright as he was, and always so eager to please, to receive validation, he had very soon understood from Loki's reactions that what he did was special. That it was important. And that Loki was interested in what he could do.

Convincing him that this had to be their own secret, something just for them to know, hadn't been difficult, and whenever Loki asked if there was something new he wanted to try, something different to see if he could do, he always agreed. Little Ant was a determined and hard worker, despite his age, and Loki found that he often had to stop the child from wearing himself out.

He had understood just how far Little Ant was willing to go when Loki had suggested they see if the boy could deal with offensive spells as well as he could with conjured objects and creatures. Of course, Little Ant immediately agreed to try, and Loki had sent a green little bolt at him from across the room. If Loki put his full force behind an attack like this one he could take a man's head clean off with a perfect hit, but this was a tiny thing, obviously, just enough to give the boy a slight sting if it hit him, no more than a light pinch.

Little Ant shielded his face with his hand, a look of fierce, focused attention on his face. But when the bolt hit his hand he gave a little yelp, stuck the stung finger into his mouth to soothe the burn, and scowled at his failure.

”Again”, he said as soon as he pulled the finger back out.

Loki nodded, and sent another green flare of magic whizzing across the room, this one even weaker than the first.

The boy still hissed and shook his hand when this one hit him as well, not even slowing down before impact, but demanded that Loki try again, and again, until Little Ant's eyes were shining with tears. And Loki did not think they were because of the stings of magic. The boy had managed to more or less skin the inside of his forearm with the string of his bow not long before this, and he had barely made a noise of complaint until the healers had patched him up.

”Again.” Little Ant raised a hand, and Loki noticed that his fingers were shaking slightly.

”No, that is enough.”

The boy stubbornly shook his head. ”Again, Loki! I know I can do it if I just try hard enough. I promise! Again!”

Loki walked across the floor to kneel down in front of the boy, who was trying to glare at him in challenge even as tears of disappointment were threatening to slip from the corners of his eyes.

”Little Ant, you are already trying as hard as you can.” He caught the raised hand, lowered it to the child's side, and then placed his own hands on his upper arms, feeling his whole body tremble with strain. ”Any more, and you will injure yourself.”

With an unsteady breath Little Ant blinked, and a tear at last escaped his hold. Angrily, he swiped at the drop running down his soft cheek. ”I should be able to do it! I'm just not good enough...” More tears slipped out at this statement.

Loki frowned. ”Listen to me carefully, Little Ant”, he said, voice grave, and leaned closer to catch the boy's eyes. ”You should not be able to do _any_ of the things you can do with my magic. It _should_ be completely impossible for you. Do not dare to even for a moment believe that you are anything less than perfectly spectacular, simply because you cannot do something even _more_ impossible. You are far beyond simply being 'good enough' already. Do you understand me?”

Little Ant hesitated, but then he slowly nodded, shuffled forward and wrapped his arms around the back of Loki's neck, letting the prince curl his around his back in turn. His little cheek was hot and wet when he pressed it against Loki's.

”I'm tired”, he admitted in a whisper by Loki's ear.

Smiling, Loki rubbed his back. ”Do you want me to read you to sleep?”

And he had read to him, until the boy was a limp, faintly snoring weight half on top of his chest.

It had been an important lesson for both of them, and Loki had taken it to heart. He knew that Little Ant would always push himself far harder than Loki would ever dream of doing. It would be his task to keep the boy from being too hard on himself, rather than encourage him to do more.

But Loki was also curious by nature, so he never quite gave up on finding out all the possibilities and limitations of the boy's abilities. He simply slowed his pace, kept it as playful as possible, and made sure it was done in ways that would build his Little Ant up, not break him down under the weight of his own demands on himself, his own far too high expectations, and harsh disappointment when he ”failed”. Loki also made sure to spread the boy's focus between mastering more skills than this one, lest that focus burn too hotly in the same spot and set something on fire. Hence the archery lessons. And when the boy showed an interest in blacksmithing and the forging of armour, Loki encouraged him to learn more, from books on the subject as well as from craftsmen in the city.

He was very familiar with this kind of behaviour from his own life, after all. They were the same in their obsessive nature, this way of putting their everything into a project, and he didn't want Little Ant to burn himself out.

As more years passed, Little Ant grew from a boy into a lanky, awkward teenager, made up of all knees and elbows and stubbornness, and as his body grew, his mind seemed to turn even sharper. His skills in altering Loki's magic were evolving to a point where he could even change inanimate objects into ”living” creatures, something far more advanced than changing something into something else in the same category.

Loki quickly found a use for this by giving Little Ant a necklace with a simple-looking stone on the end of a silver chain. The cloudy, green jewel, smooth as silk, was actually one of Loki's magic creations, storing energy in a neat, almost crystallized pattern, which Little Ant could easily change into a messenger of some kind, like a quick little bird or a dragonfly, if he should ever need Loki's help.

By now, Loki also found that he could have long, more detailed discussions with the boy about his skills, which had been impossible when he had been younger, lacking the insight into his own actions needed to analyze them. He had taken what he did for granted then, and had been unable to explain it. Now, that was beginning to change, even if he still struggled for the right words, as of yet lacking the knowledge of terms and concepts Loki possessed.

”How do you know which strands to manipulate?” Loki leaned in on his elbows over the table in his own suite where Little Ant had teased apart the construction of a quick, bright green little lizard Loki had summoned a moment ago. It was all spiraling, serpentine coils of magic now, wrapping around and into each other.

He frowned, considering his answer. ”I just... see it. I know where each of them lead, I can follow it in my mind. Then all I need to do is find the one I need, and change it the way I want. I can feel when they align into a new pattern.” His clever hands, as quick as the lizard had been, straightened out a few curved lines, pulled a few others apart, knotting them up, and when he smoothed the construction out again the lizard had turned to a just as bright green stem of a yellow flower. ”Like that.” Smiling, he handed the flower over to Loki.

Turning the thing over in his hands, Loki noted how the feel of the magic was now thoroughly different, settled into a new pattern, exactly as Little Ant had said.

”Genius”, he murmured, returning a smile that was even wider and brighter than the boy's.

”Perhaps.” Little Ant's smile widened in turn, then faded. ”Not very useful, though. I can turn one magic thing into another. So what?” A bitter twist came to his lips instead. ”All I can do is send for your help if I get into trouble; I can't do anything useful myself.”

Loki vanished the flower and instead reached his hand out to comb his fingers into Little Ant's thick hair, which seemed to have gotten even more unruly as he grew. ”Oh, I wouldn't worry about that, my clever boy. This is just the beginning.”

Raising an eyebrow, Little Ant tilted his head slightly into the touch. ”The beginning of what?”

”Why, one might think you don't know me at all, Little Ant.” Loki's mouth stretched into a grin. ”The beginning of mischief, of course.”


	3. Chapter 3

At first it really was just mischief, and Anthony had to admit that he found it highly amusing.

He took to carrying around more of Loki's conjured objects in his pockets, along the same principle as the magical jewel around his neck, but loaded with far less power. They were in the form of the kind of little treasures a young boy might have on his person – a silver coin, a feather, an animal bone, a smoothly polished rock, some scrap of metal – but whenever he wished he could turn them into lizards or smallish snakes to scare someone around the palace.

Since Loki was never around when Anthony did these things no-one could understand what was happening, even after they tried to squash the critters only to find out they were magic. They saw the boy nearby on many occasions, but they never made the connection between him and the pranks. No, he was just ”prince Loki's little mortal”, and he was dismissed as a possible suspect simply because of that.

After a while, Anthony actually started to believe that Loki sent him out on these mischievous little adventures just so he would hear the reactions to them, see the way the people in the palace saw _him_. When he finally gathered the courage to ask him about it, Loki smiled and ruffled his hair.

”Clever boy”, he praised. ”Knowing that you are underestimated is the single greatest advantage you can have. They will never see you coming.”

Once he understood the value of being beneath notice, Anthony started taking active advantage of his new knowledge. Simple pranks lost their appeal, and he would instead use it to see and hear things he wasn't supposed to. Sometimes, though, he combined the two.

Hidden in the shadows of a few sweet-smelling bushes in the garden one lazy afternoon he had managed to sneak close to where Thor and his group of friends were spread out on the neatly trimmed grass, drinking, talking and laughing. Anthony hadn't really expected them to talk about anything interesting, because they rarely did. It was mostly a challenge to see how close he could get to the warriors without them noticing him. But when he heard a mention of Loki's name, he listened in closer.

”Of course it will be you.” Lady Sif was leaning over to thump her fist into Thor's shoulder. ”You are the oldest, after all.”

”Worthy of the Hammer”, Volstagg added.

”And a true warrior”, Fandral piped up, while Hogun just nodded by his side.

”Loki was always the clever one, though.” Thor was looking uncertain.

Sif gave a little derisive snort into her tankard. ”Cleverness and tricks. Is that what a king should be?”

”And who would inherit the throne after him, anyway?” Fandral had a nasty grin on his face now. ”You think he would be man enough to ever get a woman with child? Or even figure out how it's done?”

”Well he has that little brat of his around still, doesn't he?” Sif made a gesture with her hand about a foot above the grass, as if measuring out the height of the ”brat” in question. ”Just as likely that he would sit on the throne as Loki.”

And they all laughed at that, heartily.

Gritting his teeth, Anthony shoved his hand into a pocket and pulled out a brown little rock. It only took a few alterations to turn it into a huge, fat, leathery roach, just the same shade of earthy brown. The grin on his face was as nasty as Fandral's had been when he settled the critter on the grass and watched it quickly scurry away toward the group, right into the middle of their little circle, where it scrabbled up the side of Thor's tankard of mead and promptly dropped into the drink with a faint _plop!_ All the warriors gave startled shouts as Thor snatched up the tankard and threw it, mead and all, into the bushes behind him, a disgusted look on his face.

Served him right, for laughing at vicious jokes about his own brother.

The group quickly lost the wish for more drinking after that, and left the garden.

Anthony stayed behind a while longer, still hidden in the shadows, giggling softly to himself. Pleased to have been able to take at least some kind of vengeance for the way they spoke of the most important person in his life.

Yes, mischief was _fun_ , of course it was! But it still didn't feel like he was doing something useful, and that started taking the fun out of both the pranks and the stealthy eavesdropping after a while. Besides, he was seventeen now and almost all grown up. In the eyes of the people he lived with his age meant he was barely more than a newborn, but that didn't change the way he felt, the urge and constant drive to achieve things, to leave a mark, to prove that he was more than a clever child.

”There must be something more I can do”, he complained one night, stretched out on his front on the chaise longue in the front room of Loki's suite. His lower legs were leaning against the backrest of the seat, one arm propping his head up, the other hanging down to his fingers could toy with the fringe of a thick, luxurious rug on the floor.

”And what more would you want to do?” Loki was by his desk, reading an old, heavy-looking book, now and then making notes on a separate piece of paper.

Anthony sighed. ”I don't know. Something useful.” He pulled his arm up and supported his chin in both his hands, elbows in the cushion, so he could stare through a window at the star-filled sky. ”Sometimes I feel like there is so much more I could be doing, if I could just unlock it. But I have no idea where to look for a key.”

A sharp noise came from across the room and Anthony turned his head to see that Loki had slapped his pen down on the desk, staring at the boy with wide eyes and mouth half open. He blinked at the prince. ”What?”

Instead of an answer Loki raised a hand toward him, palm out, a gesture ordering him to stay put as the man shot out of his seat and hurried through the door to his bedroom. He came back just a few moment later, carrying something in his hands, and this time he came over to Anthony's seat instead of returning to the desk.

The boy hurried to sit up properly and shuffle to the side, making room so the prince could sit down beside him. Curiously trying to get a look at the thing in his hands.

It was a small, square box, made out of finely decorated silver. Each side was about the width of Anthony's palm, and he thought perhaps it could be a jewellery box, or something like it, even though he couldn't remember ever having seen Loki wear rings, bracelets or necklaces.

”Don't ask me why I never thought of this before”, Loki was muttering as he put the box into Anthony's hands. ”I should have, a long time ago.”

Frowning, Anthony turned the box around, studying each side. He could faintly hear and feel something moving inside as he turned it, but couldn't be sure of what might be hiding in there. With an eyebrow raised, he looked at Loki again.

”Open it”, Loki said with a smile, one that alerted Anthony that this was not as simple as it might sound.

This time he looked more carefully at the thing as he twisted and turned it around. The intricate patterns were different on each side, but he couldn't find anything resembling a lock, or any other way to open it. Which could only mean one thing – it was sealed by magic. Biting his lip in concentration he put the box in his lap so he could have both hands free, and gently ran his fingertips along the patterns in the silver.

It felt nothing like Loki's cunjured objects and animals. Those were all magic, just threads and strings woven into each other with nothing inbetween. The box was a real, solid object. Anthony could tell that the threads were there when he felt for them, but they were woven into the metal too, not just each other. He couldn't simply slide his fingers inside and search out the one he needed to open the lock. No, this was more complicated.

He didn't notice when Loki left his seat and returned to his work by the desk, and he had no idea how much time passed while he flipped and spun the box, exploring threads and patterns and odd knots and tangles. Nothing magical had been a true challenge for him since the utter failure of trying to handle Loki's stinging little bolts. He could still remember how disappointed he had been with himself, so certain he could do it, and then never being able to do anything to the tiny bolts, no matter how hard he tried.

This was different, he was sure of it. The bolts had been a kind of magic made to erupt on impact, as were all offensive spells of the same kind, Anthony had since learned. His strange skill required that he manually manipulate the strands of a spell, the ones making it up. If a spell was made to literally blow up in his face, he couldn't do that. It had taken him years to accept this as a simple fact, something he could do nothing to change, and it still annoyed him even so. But this box? This he could handle. He just had to find out how...

In the end it was fairly simple after all – the complicated way it was constructed had fooled him into thinking it was something more than it was. The whole locking mechanism was actually only two tangled threads. All he had to do was find the one knot that held them together, gently tease it open, and as soon as the four ends of the two strings came apart he heard a soft click from the box, and it fell open like the petals of a metal flower in his lap.

Inside was a brooch made in the shape of a coil of mistletoe, the leaves silver, the berries gleaming white pearls. It was beautiful, even if time had tarnished it.

”Well done, Little Ant.” Loki was standing over him, he noticed then, smiling as he picked up the brooch, removed the stains on it with a rub of his thumb, and then leaned down to fasten it right by the high collar of Anthony's clothes. The design of them so similar to what the prince usually wore himself.

Grinning up at him, Anthony was feeling ready to burst with pride. He had done something useful this time, and he knew it.

* * *

The palace in a kingdom built on a foundation of magic is – unsurprisingly – filled with locks made with magic. Anthony noticed this only now when he knew what to look for.

They were both of the same kind as the silver box, with strands of magic woven into a physical lock, and also in the form of shields out of pure magic, though the latter tended to be hidden behind the former kind, since they were more dangerous. Loki told him that the cells in the royal prison were made out of such shields, and that even more powerful ones could be generated to protect the entire palace in times of war.

Unsurprisingly, Anthony set out to attempt unlocking all the ones he could get his curious hands on.

It was the first time he had to deal with magic that wasn't Loki's, and these unknown threads felt very strange to him at first. He could tell that some of these locks were very old, the strings worn and ragged under his fingers. Others were made by mages far less skilled than the prince. Anthony was used to the neat and sleek look of Loki's magical creations and some of the ones he found around the palace were a mess in comparison, tangles barely holding together and doing their job more by accident than anything else.

He made sure to note how they were made before he unlocked them, so he would be able to seal the locks back up when he was done and no-one would ever know he had been there. It wasn't long before he became very skilled at this. His memory had always been nearly eidetic, and once he had figured a lock out he never forgot how it worked.

Loki knew what he was doing, of course, and it was clear that he approved. Though he did make a point of giving Anthony a lesson in dealing with the purely magical shields before the day came when he tried to take on one of those.

”There are two kinds, Little Ant”, he said as he summoned a tiny, green-and-gold dome of light above a book on his desk. ”There are the kind that simply keep you out, like magical walls. Those are safe for you to manipulate, just like a lock.” Loki made a gesture to the little dome, showing Anthony that he was free to try.

It was just the same as manipulating a conjured object in may ways, except that these threads were more resistant, and there was no way he could turn them into anything but what they were. They were firmly set into their shape and wouldn't let themselves be convinced into anything else. He could make an opening in the weave, however, sneak his hand in and retrieve the book, before closing the shield up again.

”Deftly done”, Loki smiled, took the book from him and waved the dome out of the way before he put the book back on the desk and summoned another shield above it, this one a sharper green colour. ”Then there is the second kind, which is meant to both keep you out, and defend itself against any attempt to breach it.” Again, he gestured for Anthony to go ahead.

This time, the boy hesitated, glancing up at Loki's carefully blank face. ”This is going to sting, isn't it?”

”Oh, yes. Consider it a valuable lesson.”

With a sigh, Anthony slowly reached a hand out toward the shield. Since he knew there would be a difference between this one and the last, he carefully felt for it as he came close enough to nearly feel the threads hum under the pads of his fingers. It felt warmer, he noticed, and there was a certain pattern to the weave; where the last shield had been a simple, overlapping lattice, this one was all sharp angles, looking and feeling almost thorny.

He let his fingers settle against the threads – and instantly pulled his hand back with a yelp, hugging his whole arm to his chest with the other. He was numb all the way to the elbow after the nasty spark of magic that had shocked his hand.

Loki dispelled the shield, reached out for Anthony's hand and slowly, gently rubbed some feeling back into the sore skin. ”So, you see the difference, Little Ant?”

”Yes”, he muttered. ”But why doesn't everyone use that kind, then?”

”Because they take far more power to create, and are much, much more complicated. They are reserved for the most valuable treasures, or to lock away the most dangerous things. Which is sometimes one and the same.”

Anthony thought about where he had glimpsed the most powerful shields so far. ”Like the things kept in the weapons vault”, he said.

”Exactly.” Then Loki got a thoughtful look on his face, one Anthony knew would lead to something interesting. ”And now that you mention it, I wonder what you could do to a weapon imbued with magic...”

It turned out he could do much, although it would be of little use in actual combat. He could sense the kind of enchantment placed on the weapon, and given time he could change it into something else, or even remove it altogether if the spell was weak or worn enough. But in a fight no enemy would willingly place his weapon in Anthony's hands long enough to let him do something like that, obviously.

Still, it was useful for causing all sorts of mischief.

Bold as he was, Anthony even tried to apply his newfound skills to Mjölner. Getting close enough to the Hammer wasn't difficult; all it took was some boyishly wide-eyed flattery and the older prince would happily place his weapon on the wall around the sparring ring, letting Anthony admire the heavy, oddly disproportioned thing. He took a moment to run his fingers over the almost square metal head, and the short handle, neatly wrapped in leather, before he thanked Thor for the honour and left.

That night when Loki came to his room to ”tuck him in”, which for the last five years or so had meant the prince coming by to talk to him for a while after his long day of duties was done, one of the few calm moments they had together even if it no longer involved any actual tucking Anthony into bed. He did that by himself, and this night he had actually already crawled into bed when Loki came to see him, but he didn't mind. Loki just settled on the edge of his bed, leaning against the headboard, one leg folded up on the duvet, the other foot on the floor.

”I tried to tinker with Mjölner today”, he said, casually, as if this was no big deal.

”Tinker” was the word they had taken to using about his abilites, one they could use even among others without them knowing what they meant.

Loki turned his head to stare down at him. ”You did _what_?!” It looked like he couldn't decide if he was more horrified or excited to hear what had happened next.

”Don't worry”, Anthony smiled, patting his arm. ”I didn't do anything to it, really. I just wanted to see if I could. What makes the thing so special.”

”And?” Curiosity was clearly winning the battle now.

”I couldn't do anything, obviously. The spells are far too powerful for me, and I got the feeling the metal in it helps make them stronger, somehow?”

Loki nodded. ”Uru. It absorbs enchantments better than any other known substance, and also reinforces them once they are in place.”

”That explains it. The weave wouldn't shift at all.” Anthony frowned. ”But still, that talk about being worthy of lifting it? It just makes it sound a lot more special than it is.”

There came a twitch to Loki's eyebrows that Anthony couldn't quite make sense of. ”Oh? How so?”

He was slightly surprised by the question. He had honestly thought Loki knew. But then, it didn't seem anyone did. ”That's not how it works”, he said. ”It has no concept of worth, or lack of it. It's all just a spell marking it for Thor, binding their magic together. Someone made it that way by choice.” He shrugged under the duvet.

The silence that followed was the strangest, tensest one he had ever shared with Loki. The prince looked paler than ever, his green eyes staring ahead, unblinking, for a while. Then he huffed, shook his head, and gave Anthony a tiny smile that looked like it pained him.

”I see.” Loki ran a hand though his hair before he slipped off the bed, leaned down and pressed a kiss to his hairline. ”Sleep well, Little Ant.”

Long after the prince had left the room, Anthony found himself staring up at the dark ceiling above his bed, wondering what Loki had been thinking in that long, silent moment.


	4. Chapter 4

_”It has no concept of worth, or lack of it. Someone made it that way by choice.”_

Few words had upended Loki's world view as completely as those had. And not only his view of the world, truly, but his way of looking at himself as well.

Most of his life had centered around proving his worth. As a prince, as a man, as a warrior, as a son. Attempting to win approval, acceptance, even simple acknowledgement, and always failing. The final proof of his lack of worth – being unable to pick up the Hammer and wield it, which his brother did with such ease – had just been the last nail in the coffin. And now it had suddenly been made clear to him that someone had set things up that way. Someone had made him believe that he was born to be a king, to be his brother's equal, but had made the test of his worth a trial he was doomed to fail, no matter what he did.

Only it wasn't _someone_ who had done all those things – it was their father.

There had been a time when he had thought he was meant for the throne. When they had both been nothing but boys dreaming of future glory, young and foolish enough to believe a king's life a splendid, perfectly happy ever after, all days of glorious battle and nights of lavish feasts. That had been the days of heroes and villains, black and white, gold and shadow.

But they had grown up, as boys do, and at least Loki had learned to know better. Perhaps because while Thor grew into the golden one, he had become the shadow. Thor still played at war with his friends, he still saw the world in black and white, while Loki had learned that everything was just shades gray.

He saw how the rule of Asgard, and by extension the protection of the rest of the Nine Realms, was a heavy burden to bear, even for a man like their father. As he was himself burdened with more responsibilities, the idea of having all of them heaped on his shoulders was quickly losing its appeal.

No, he never wanted the throne. Not once he knew what came with it.

Some still said he envied his brother and in a way, they were right. He did. He envied the easy way Thor was loved and accepted, the way he could do no wrong, the way he always had their father's support and approval while Loki had to fight for even the slightest show of appreciation.

Loki had at least thought, for a long time, that Thor considered him an equal. They had grown up together, as close as brothers could be, so how could they not be equal in each other's eyes?

It had taken years for him to understand his mistake. Years of snide remarks from his brother's newfound friends, years of his brother laughing at cruel jokes at his expense, years of Loki saving their lives on foolhardy adventures only to have his ”tricks” belittled and made fun of. He had closed himself off from them when the truth couldn't be ignored any longer. He could never win them over.

But he had still not given up on winning his father's approval. He knew the throne would be Thor's, and he didn't want it. That wasn't why he didn't give up. All he wanted was a heavy hand on his shoulder and a look of pride, like the ones his brother was given.

Loki never got those, either.

He knew he had his mother's love, at least. She had taught him magic and supported him in learning more, but even she had to have known that his choice would never be appreciated by anyone else in Asgard. 

And then everything had changed, simply because he had ventured into the forest one day and found a child meant for him. If not for that, he thought this revelation of truth might have broken him, in some way. He still felt wounded, brittle, some part of his heart a little more hollow than it had been before. But he held.

Yet, a part of him would always wish for his father's approval, that would most likely never change. But it had become secondary. His worth now was measured more by how widely he could make Little Ant smile. How bright with mirth and delight he could make those honey-warm brown eyes, looking at Loki as if he was the one to lure the sun over the horizon and hang the stars in the sky. By how easily he could hug the boy to his chest and tell him he was proud of him.

Little Ant had him, and only him. Loki knew that. He would never use that knowledge, and the boy's natural wish to please, to turn him into a desperate slave in the constant struggle for scraps of Loki's appreciation. He could have, so easily, but never would. The boy made him happy; he wasn't rewarding that with the kind of pain he had known most of his own life.

So he had never been meant to be a king. He had never been meant to manage to prove himself worthy. He had never been the favoured, golden son and would never be. But there was someone meant for him, and with Little Ant by his side he thought that one day he would be able to stand to the side and watch as Thor took the throne, as he had always been meant to do.

He thought that he could, because then he still believed that day was far away in a distant future.

* * *

Years did pass, turning to decades, until more than a century had come and gone. Little Ant had been living in Asgard for over 150 years and had long since grown into a man, but if you had asked Loki about that, he would probably have told you the once-mortal was still just a boy.

A frightfully clever boy with strange talents Loki was still the only one to know about. A boy who had grown taller and stronger, but still would never match the size and strength of the aesir.

Little Ant had kept up his diligent work with the bow, and by now he was more skilled than Loki, by far. He could effortlessly hit a target from horseback, or snatch an arrow aimed at him out of the air with his hand to then promptly fire it back at his attacker. This earned him no admiration from others, of course, since the only thing a true man and warrior would do in battle was rush into the fray and engage in close combat. Something Loki had always considered completely stupid and instead of discouraging Little Ant, he enchanted both his bow and his arrows. The bow for an even sharper aim, and the arrows in a way that would let Little Ant turn them into whatever he needed at the moment. 

An arrow that split into three in the middle of its trajectory? One that would burst into fire on inpact? 

He had any of it at the tips of his fingers.

They traveled all of Asgard together, they hunted, they slept under the stars, they spent more time talking than Loki ever had with anyone else, even Thor or his mother. Listening to Little Ant's brilliant mind work was fascinating; hearing him figure the universe out piece by piece, putting his knowledge together at an impressive speed. But he was also a great listener in turn, taking in anything from stories of Loki's own childhood to myths and legends and knowledge of the other Realms.

He was still curious about Midgard, and Loki promised him that one day they would go there, one day when they had the time. And perhaps they could even find out who Anthony's parents had been? They would be long gone now, but they might have left some trace behind, after all.

Those were good years, and ones that passed far too quickly.

Loki didn't know how quickly until the day he stood in front of the throne and heard his father proclaim Thor his heir, and that the prince would be crowned as soon as he had completed the traditional journey through the Realms, to gain their approval. He should leave as soon as possible, bring his trusted friends and his brother, and then be welcomed back to Asgard as king.

He wasn't surprised that he was ordered to join his brother, but he was surprised it had happened so soon. Loki was certain Thor was far from ready to step up as ruler.

Little Ant was devastated to hear that Loki would be leaving Asgard, especially on a journey that might last years.

”But why?” Little Ant turned his head away where he was sitting in Loki's suite, but not before Loki had glimpsed the liquid sheen to his eyes. ”Odin's choice of his heir can't possibly be overruled anyway. Why is this even necessary?”

”That is exactly why it's necessary”, Loki explained as he settled beside the boy on the chaise longue. ”No, the king's choice can't be changed, but the rulers of the other Realms need the illusion of power over the decision. It strengthens the bond between them and us, and it gives the king-to-be a chance to start his rule supported by their good will.”

The travels were mostly a diplomatic show of respect, but it also involved the future king being sent on more or less symbolic quests around the Realms, gaining knowledge of what would soon be his to protect.

”Will you go to Midgard?” The boy at last turned to look at him, curious even through the misery.

”No. There is nothing of political interest on Midgard. We will visit Vanaheim, Alfheim, the dwarves of Svartalfheim, and the court of Helheim, in turn.” Loki looked forward to the last one the most. There were some odd rumours that he had once fathered Hel, which was of course absurd since she was thousands of years older than him, but the two of them had always gotten along well. They shared a similar sense of humour. ”Nifelheim, Muspelheim and Jotunheim are all tied to us by a truce that is tenuous at best, and their acceptance means little.”

Little Ant considered this for a moment, and then leaned into his side with a sigh, tilting his head to rest it on Loki's shoulder. ”Take me with you?”

”I would if I was allowed to”, Loki promised as he wrapped and arm around the boy, hugging him closer. ”Unfortunately, I'm not. You will have to stay here and look after Asgard for me while I'm gone.”

He huffed. ”Fine. I guess I'll do that. Just don't blame me if it's all burned down to the ground when you get back home.”

”Who else should I blame then?” Loki grinned into his hair. ”Thor will be with me, remember?”

Little Ant elbowed him in his ribs, chuckling, but his eyes weren't happy when he glanced up.

They still weren't happy when the boy was standing beside Frigga on the Bifrost, as the court were gathered outside the Observatory to see the king-to-be off on his travels.

When Loki came to kiss his mother goodbye she held on to his arm a moment longer to speak softly by his ear. ”Take care of yourself, Loki. Keep in mind that Anthony needs you.”

He gave her a wounded look. ”Haven't I kept him in mind since I found him?”

”You have, but...” She sighed. ”In your position it is so easy to forget how little he truly has. If not for you, there would be nothing else for him. He has no ties of blood or family, nowhere to go.” There was something pained in her gray eyes as she settled a hand on his cheek. ”Just be careful, yes?”

”Always, mother.” With one last smile for her, Loki then turned to Little Ant. There were no words left to be said between them, so he simply pulled the tense shape of the boy into an embrace, kissed the hair by his temple, and reluctantly let go.

Thor held a short but booming speach about the glory of the journey they were about to make, which Loki didn't hear a word of, and then they left for Vanaheim.

The five years that followed would turn into the longest of Loki's life.

* * *

Anthony stood staring at the distant darkness of space for a long time after the Bifrost had taken the princes away, lost in thought, and startled when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. When he blinked and spun his head around he found the queen by his side, a slightly concerned look on her face. He remembered the quiet words he had overheard her exchange with Loki earlier, and made himself give her a pale smile. Showing her she needn't worry, not sure he was entirely successful.

”Is it strange that I miss him already?” He didn't add a title; she had ordered him to consider her family many years ago.

Besides Loki, she was the member of the royal family he was most famliar with. They were often invited to her rooms, both for small, private meals and simple catching up. He had many fond memories of Frigga, unlike Odin, who he rarely if ever saw outside of the throne room, and Thor, who he had learned to despise for the way he let his friends talk about Loki, and the way he carried himself with an air of better-than whenever they were around each other.

She returned the smile. ”You have never been apart since he brought you to Asgard, have you?”

Shaking his head, he looked back at the star-strewn abyss beyond the eternal waterfall.

”Then no, it's not that strange.” Frigga settled her arm gently around his shoulders, a hand pushing just enough to show him he should follow her back to the city. ”Don't worry. He'll be back to us sooner than you think, and we will make sure you are kept busy until then. That always makes time pass quicker, doesn't it?”

Anthony let himself be turned and led back toward the palace at a slow pace. It was a long walk, but he didn't mind. Chatting with Frigga about the herbs in her garden, her favourite mare soon having a new foal, and a multitude of other things that had nothing to do with either of the princes, helped take his mind of things.

Meanwhile, another part of his mind was already turning her words over, considering them. It was true – time seemed to pass quicker when you kept yourself busy. So what would Loki have adviced him to busy himself with, while he was away?

By the time Frigga left him with a kiss on his cheek, to make her way back to her suite, he knew what he should do. And as soon as she was out of sight he turned around and found the stairs that led him up to the Royal Library.

The library was spread out over three floors, outer walls all made up of windows offering soft daylight and a wide view of the gardens. It was huge, and Anthony knew as soon as he stepped through the doors into this silent shrine to knowledge, with its spicy, faintly sour scent of old books, that he would need help to find what he was looking for. Without giving away exactly what that was.

An elf with bright white hair stood by a table not far from the doors, her arms full of books which she seemed to be sorting into piles on the polished wooden surface in front of her. Anthony had no idea if the colour of her hair indicated old age, or if she had always had it. Her face was smooth, except for a faint wrinkle of concentration between her elegantly arched brows, but then all elves he had ever seen had had faces soft as an infant's. When he came closer she caught his movements out of the corner of her eye and turned a sharp, amber glance his way before she returned to sorting her books.

”Yes?” Her voice was stern and businesslike, but not harsh.

”I would be interested in finding books about the basics of magic. Is that something you might help me with?”

Again her eyes found his face, her work coming to a halt. ”You are midgardian.”

He felt himself blink in surprise. It was no secret, of course, but it was rarely so bluntly pointed out. ”I am, yes.”

”Prince Loki's charge, I assume?”

He simply nodded this time.

”Hm. And why would you be interested in reading about magic, young man?” The librarian gave him a look through narrow eyes.

”I'm interested in reading about most things”, he answered with absolute sincerity.

She regarded him doubtfully for another few moments, but then she nodded, deposited her stack of books on the table, and led him up to the second floor, and away to a corner of the great room. Most of the shelves here were locked away behind what looked like glass doors, but Anthony knew they would be made of something much stronger. The librarian led him to one of the few that were left accessible, and gestured to the worn books filling it.

”These should more than cover any basic knowledge of magic you might need.”

”And all these other books? I can't read those?”

”As a precaution, only those versed in magic may open those doors and reach the books inside. The more advanced the knowledge, the stronger the lock.” She leaned in with a sharp look at his face. ”So there is no use coming to ask me for the key, because there is none.”

”Oh.” He feigned a look of disappointment. ”Well, thank you anyway. I will look at these, then.”

With a curt nod, the librarian quickly returned to her chores.

When Anthony was sure that she was far enough away he walked to the closest of the locked doors, eyeing the titles of the books behind it, and grinned when he got close enough to notice the lock. Oh, they couldn't have very high expectations of the students of magic in Asgard, if this was what was supposed to keep them away from forbidden knowledge. The lock was more or less a simple bow, tied in a thread with an odd, velvety feel to it. One single tug on a loose end, and the thing fell open.

Throwing a few furtive glances around himself, Anthony at last opened the door, and reached for a book.

It would be a long, long time before Loki would be back home, but at least now he had reading to do.

* * *

Loki missed his Little Ant more over the next few years than he had thought it possible to miss anyone or anything, but that still was not the worst part of this long journey. He knew that once it was all over, he would return home and see the boy's face again, hear his laughter and listen to his excited ramblings. No, the worst part was seeing up close what manner of king Asgard would have once they returned home. And that part would not be over by then – it would only be getting started.

Over the last couple of centuries he had done his best to stay out of his older brother's way. They had next to nothing in common anymore, Thor's friends belittled and tormented him for sport while his brother laughed along, and he had preferred to invest his free time in teaching and caring for Little Ant, rather than sparring and adventuring with Thor and his followers. He had forgotten what Thor was really like. Or perhaps his brother had become even more arrogant, reckless, careless and hot-headed since they had stopped spending time together?

In every Realm they visited Loki was forced to smooth over at least one social or diplomatic disaster of some kind. And the small, simple and more or less symbolic quests the lords and ladies of the other Realms were supposed to send the king-to-be on during his visits always erupted into chaos somehow. 

As a rule, Loki wasn't the one to turn down an opportunity for chaos and confusion and mischief, but this was completely ridiculous and against the very purpose of the quests. They were meant to prove the future king's many skills, but Thor didn't have many skills – he had one. Where it would have been preferable to use finesse or stealth, Thor always ignored Loki's advice to do so and opted for fighting his way in and out of every possible situation. Oh, of course he always succeeded in the end anyway, because the one thing Thor did, he did well, that had to be said for him. So explaining why it was still a problem was, of course, hopeless.

By the end of their travels Loki felt completely drained. 

It could have all been so quick and painless, for all of them, but instead Loki had been forced to spend nearly all his energy and resources on making sure they even got through it all. And that the kings and queens they met would not attempt to rebell against Odin's choice of an heir after all.

When they were finally about to return to Asgard, he felt like he was ready to sleep for a decade.

Hel, who had been the last one they visited, invited him to a private dinner with her on the night before they were leaving Helmheim behind. With her otherworldly appearance, half her striking face paler than Loki's own, half grayish blue, many found her unsettling. Loki didn't. She had a calm, unobtrusive manner, and was very observant.

”You worry”, she stated after watching him shuffle the food around on his plate for a while, never lifting a forkful to his lips.

He gave up the pretense and put his utensils down. ”I have seen my brother trample his way through the Realms for five years, and I imagine seeing him crowned king once we return.” Loki sighed. ”Yes, of course I worry.”

She hummed softly, not disagreeing. ”There is a saying, that to the man who only owns a hammer, everything looks like a nail.” Her silky, salt-and-pepper hair shifted across her bony shoulder as she tilted her head. ”It always made me think of your brother.”

In spite of the accuracy of it being sort of sad, Loki still found himself laughing.

”You are no hammer, Loki.” Hel smiled. ”No, you are something far more subtle and versatile. I'm sure you will find a way to solve this.”

”I shouldn't have to.”

”You shouldn't”, she agreed. ”But you won't be able to stand by and watch, either.”

He knew she was right, and the thought turned to something slinking and small, with many sharp teeth, sneaking around in the back of his mind while they prepared their return to Asgard the next day.

The whole court was once more gathered to celebrate the return of the king-to-be, and it was all a cheering, milling mess of aesir and horses. Loki chose to stay behind in the Observatory so he could be the last one out on the Bifrost, when the worst of the crowd had already gathered around Thor and his friends.

As soon as he reached the doorway his eyes fell on the tall, regal figure of the queen, her face turned to smile at her older son. But then he focused on the person standing by her right side, a young man with a flaring gleam in his dark eyes, holding himself still in his place by obvious effort, and Loki wondered how long he had truly been gone from his home.

Five years was not a very long time in the life of an aesir, but as Loki took in the sight of the person by his mother's side, it felt like an age.

The image of his Little Ant that he had carried in his heart for five years was the image of a boy, but this person was no such thing. He wasn't tall compared to the people around him, but he stood so straight and proud he seemed taller. He looked sharp and lean, tough and shrewd. And he had a beard. Not a full one like Odin's, or one covering the whole jaw like Thor's but a smaller, neater one around just his mouth and chin, more like Fandral's only more elaborately groomed, and Loki found that he thought the style suited his dark colours better.

So many things were different, he thought, but then he abruptly realized that he was all wrong about that.

Yes, the beard was new, and it added a certain maturity to the person he saw now, but the rest wasn't. The rest had been there all along. This young man was exactly the same person he had left behind five years ago. He just hadn't seen it then.

This wasn't his Little Ant. Not anymore.

Perhaps going away for so long hadn't been an entirely bad thing, after all.

Loki felt a wide smile spread across his face, and while he started walking away from the Observatory he saw the young man's self-control finally snap. The next moment he was running across the Bifrost's shimmering surface, stright into Loki's open arms, slamming into his armoured chest hard enough to make them both grunt with the impact. Still smiling, Loki wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding on tight, as he felt arms wrap around his own back in turn. And this body felt so surprisingly heavy and solid in his embrace, as if there was more to him now than there had been before, although Loki knew there wasn't.

”My Anthony”, he murmured into the ruffled, brown hair. ”I've missed you.”

The young man pulled back a little, almost startled, and blinked up at his face. ”You... you've never called me that before.”

”I always thought you had to grow into that name for it to suit you”, Loki said, hands closing firmly around his shoulders. ”Now I can see that you already have.”

Anthony didn't find any words to that. But at least a smile spread over his face in turn, as wide and bright as the ones Loki remembered.

In a pointed way, Loki looked behind him then, over the heads of the gathered crowd. ”And all of Asgard is still standing.” He grinned at Anthony. ”I'm impressed.”

While the young man laughed and they threw an arm around each other to walk toward the palace, side by side, Anthony telling him about everything that had happened the last five years, Loki swallowed down the feeling that Anthony might as well have burned the whole realm to a cinder.

Once Thor took the throne, it would only be a matter of time before it was all in ruins, anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank you all so much for the support you've given this story so far. You're all amazing!

It felt like Odin's eye was burning a mark into Loki's face, intensely focused as it was. ”My decision is final, Loki.”

”I know, father.” His fingers were knotting around each other behind his back where he was standing in front of the heavy desk in the king's study. It was the only place where they could speak with some privacy.

”And yet you have objections?”

”My brother's actions over the last five years have led me to believe that he still needs more time before he is ready.”

Odin huffed, shaking his head. ”Thor has completed every task he was presented with, and has won the approval of the rulers he has met with.”

Gritting his teeth, Loki cursed himself for a fool. He never should have spent so much time and effort smoothing over his brother's shortcomings. Perhaps if the disasters of Thor's travels had been allowed to reach the ears of the king, they would have made a difference. Now Loki really had no-one to blame but himself for Thor's journey looking like much more of a success than it had been.

”Father, I'm not asking you to change your decision.” He knew there would have been no use in even trying, even if he had actually wanted to. ”You named Thor your heir, just as we all knew you would, and there is no need to change that. I'm only suggesting that you give him more time as king-to-be, before the coronation. More time to learn, and -”

”Enough.” Odin's voice wasn't loud, but the tone was heavy and weary enough that Loki knew everything was already lost. ”Your brother has learned what he needs to. He has proven himself worthy in my eyes, and to all the Realms. The coronation will be held in three day's time, and by then I suggest you put this childishness aside.”

It felt like a slap, but Loki managed to hide it behind a bland little smile. ”Of course, father. Thor will have my full support.”

With a stiff tilt of his upper body that could have passed for a bow, Loki turned and left the royal study without another word. 

He had tried to reason with his father, and utterly failed. Perhaps he could have gone to his mother as well, but even if she would have listened more closely to his concerns, he knew that in the end she would just smile and pat his hand and tell him to trust in his father's wisdom, that there was a reason for everything he did, and that all would be well.

Loki knew they were wrong. It would be far from well. Frigga was too blind to see her son's faults, and Odin was too worn and tired to wait any longer.

The only way to change things now, was if the people of Asgard got to see their king-to-be for what he truly was. Then they would never allow this foolishness to continue. Loki simply had to show them. And he had three days to figure out how.

* * *

”You're staring again.” Without opening his eyes, Anthony smiled at the feeling of being studied by bright, green eyes. He was stretched out on his back in the grass, his head resting in Loki's lap.

There came a soft chuckle from above, and then fingertips ran along his jaw to the hairs on his chin. ”You have a beard.”

”Nothing escapes you, I hear”, he said, raising an eyebrow and squinting up at the prince, who was leaning against the trunk of a tree. They had sought out the shade under it to rest after the long walk out ot the city, visiting some of their old hunting grounds.

”I just haven't had time to get used to it yet.” Loki shrugged. ”It makes me feel like I missed a lot while I was away.”

”You didn't.” Grinning, he rubbed his own hand over the side of his mouth, stiff hairs shifting under the touch. ”Although I suppose you would have had a lot to say about the way it looked before it grew out evenly.”

That made Loki laugh outright. ”And you say I didn't miss anything...”

”Why do you think I took the opportunity to try growing a beard while you were away?”

Loki gave an exaggerated sigh. ”I never get to have any fun.”

”Well, you know?” Anthony tilted his head back and to the side on Loki's thigh, so he could see the pale face better. ”You could grow a matching one. I think it might suit you, and I've never seen you with a beard.”

”No, you wouldn't have.” With a slightly wry twist of a smile on his lips, Loki caught his hand and lifted it to settle Anthony's fingers on his own jaw.

The skin was perfectly smooth, the way it had always been, but he found that he had never before reflected on the fact that there was not even a hint of stubble there. Frowning slightly, Anthony wondered why he never had. It was simply the way Loki was, and he had never considered that he should be any other way. Now that he thought about it, it was a little strange, though.

He blinked up at the expression on Loki's face, not sure what to make of it, and rubbed the pad of his thumb along the delicate line of the prince's jaw, without thinking too much about the movement.

”I can shave again, if you want me to.”

”No.” Loki shook his head under his hand. ”It suits you. Better than I would have guessed. You should keep it.”

Smiling, Anthony let his hand drop back to his chest. He could admit, at least to himself, that he had been nervous about what Loki would think of the change when he came back, but he had needed something new. Perhaps only to distract himself from how much he had missed the prince. And there wasn't much else he could do with the way he looked.

Fashion in Asgard offered limited options, and no matter how he tried the rich, red shade Loki had always picked for his clothes just seemed to be what suited his own dark colours best. So there hadn't been much to do there. 

He had also made an attempt to grow his hair longer. He would never admit that, even privately, but he had hoped he could achieve something more like Loki's sleeker look. That had been a disaster. With his thick, willful half-curls he had looked like a complete fool when it grew longer, so he had quickly had it cut again.

The beard had been the only option he been satisfied with the outcome of, and he was pleased that Loki approved.

”Oh, I almost forgot...” Loki's voice snatched him back from his thoughts. ”I brought you back a gift from Alfheim.”

A long, slim hand twisted in the air above Anthony, picking something out of nothing, and offered to him.

Eyes narrowing in curious scrutiny, Anthony accepted the gift, turning it over in his fingers. Once he unrolled it, it turned out to be reddish brown strip of leather, about the width of his palm and nearly the same length as his forearm. Thick, but still very soft and smooth, with an odd pattern on one side that he couldn't place.

”Dragon hide”, Loki explained when he saw that Anthony couldn't tell what it was. ”The elves guard it jealously, but since this piece was so small, one at last agreed to sell it to me. I thought it would make a fine arm guard for you. It can't be worn out, so you could practice with your bow forever and never need a new one.”

”That's... perfect!” Suddenly blinking away tears, he dropped the strip of leather on his chest and twisted around on the ground until he could slip his arms around Loki's lower back, pressing his face into his abdomen. Touched beyond words that even away on his long, busy journey Loki had made the obvious effort to get an almost impossibe gift, just for him. ”Thank you”, he said, words muffled against Loki's clothes, and felt the muscles hidden under them shift when Loki gave a soft little laugh.

”You're welcome, Anthony.” A hand ran into his hair, rubbing at the back of his head, and he wondered at the still unfamiliar use of his full name.

After a while he rolled to his back again, grasping the leather piece, holding it up for inspection. Now he realized that the interlocking pattern on the supple surface was what was left behind after the scales were removed.

”Dragon hide is resistant to magic as well”, Loki added.

”Well, now I wish I had an entire armour out of it.”

”I wish you did as well, but not even I have the kind of riches it would cost to buy you one. You will have to make the most of this.”

”I will.” Anthony rubbed a thumb over the leather. ”I promise.”

* * *

Loki and Thor were just about ready to step into the Great Hall, dressed in their finest armour, as shining and impressive as expected on the day one of them would be crowned king of the realm, when the alarm was raised.

Heimdall had seen frost giants coming for the city, from the mountains. The crowd in the Hall was instantly gasping and whispering, calling out, wondering how such a thing was possible. There were no answers to be found, but everyone were in agreement that the monsters needed to be stopped, as far from the city walls as possible. So wasn't it lucky that both the princes of Asgard were already dressed for battle?

Both of them, as well as Lady Sif and the Warriors Tree, and a group of Einherjar, were outside in the courtyard what felt like moments later, mounting the horses already saddled for them all.

”Loki! Wait!” A panting Anthony came to a slightly skidding halt by Loki's mount, making the horse toss its head nervously. He grasped the reins in one hand, soothingly stroking the gray neck with the other. He had tied his leather armour over the embroidered finery he'd been wearing for the coronation, his bow and quiver slung over his back. ”I'm going with you.”

”You most definitely are not!” Loki leaned down, caught his wrist and made him look up at his face. ”Wait in the palace with Frigga, where you're safe.”

”I'll be safe with you! I'm not a kid anymore, you know? I can fight.” He pulled his arm free, almost glaring up at the prince. ”Let me come with you.”

”Out of the question.” Behind him, Loki heard the call to ride out, the clatter of hooves as horses were urged into motion. ”Stay here, Anthony. That's an order.” He hardly ever needed to throw age and rank and authority around to make Anthony do what he wanted – asking was usually more than enough. But Loki wasn't taking chances today.

He gathered up the reins, had his mount back up a few steps, and then made it spin around, spurred it after the other warriors who were already out of the gates. All he could see was the angry, disappointed face he had left behind, but he made himself shake the image away as he caught up to the others, racing out of the city to face down advancing monsters. They needed to keep Asgard safe. Asgard, and Anthony with it.

It wasn't much of a glorious battle.

They rode down the perhaps twenty frost giants in the first attack, and almost half of them never stood back up. Most of the aesir stayed on their horses, taking advantage of the extra height and strength under them to fight the hulking, blue enemies. Thor, of course, dismounted. Mjölner was not a weapon well suited for fighting on horseback.

Loki stayed in his saddle until he was unseated by an attack from behind when he was already parrying a strike from his left, sword-arm reaching across his own body, shards of ice from the giant's arm falling around him. The sweeping blow from the one sneaking up behind him must have cracked at least a couple of his ribs, but at least he managed to roll out of the way of another blow when he hit the ground, avoiding landing on the sharp rocks more by sheer luck than skill.

A well-aimed throw of a dagger found the closest jotun's eye, dropping him dead on the spot. But when Loki reached for a second dagger to repeat the action, he realized that one had been his last. Gritting his teeth against the flare of pain in his chest he jumped to his feet, sliding a heavier dagger from a sheath at his hip. This one was useless for throwing, but he could use it in close combat with lethal efficiency. He had simply hoped to never have to come that close to these creatures.

The frost giant grinned at him, blood-red eyes flashing. It was smaller than the other one, its markings completely different, but Loki had no idea what that meant. When the jotun flicked its hand out with an odd twirl of its fingers, sending a blindingly bright, ice-blue streak of magic at him, Loki thought he might make an educated guess anyway.

In the same moment as Loki dropped down to the ground, making the bolt miss him entirely, rushing above his shoulder with a crackling of frost, he saw the shaft of an arrow strike the right side of the jotun's chest, the feathers on the end of it coloured a bright red.

Loki didn't have time to stand back up, or even realize what he had just seen, before there came a pained shriek from the cliffs behind him. A shriek in a voice that sounded horribly familiar to him.

At the same time the frost giant was about to fall on him, enraged by the arrow jutting out from its ribcage more than anything else, ice-covered fist raised for the killing blow. Loki winked out of existence just as the blow fell, reappearing behind the giant, its blade of ice now buried in the dirt where Loki's back had been moments ago. He didn't hesitate to make a leap up on the giant's own bent back, sliding the blade of his dagger in deep, right by the exposed base of the jotun's skull.

The huge body turned limp under his knees as he slipped the dagger back out, and Loki leapt away, running as soon as his feet hit the ground. Praying to the Norns that he wouldn't find what he already knew he would find when he reached the cliffs.

His Anthony had been thrown flat on his back as the spell hit him, the icy magic cutting through his leather armour with no effort at all. There was a bow and a scattering of red-feathered arrows by his side. His chest was heaving, face deadly pale, sweaty, eyes wide and dark with pain as Loki fell to his knees by his side.

”Sorry”, Anthony almost mouthed, speach not obeying him. ”I'm sorry.”

”No!” Loki growled as he used his dagger to cut the torn armour off, then tearing at the shreds left of his tunic. ”Don't you dare!”

In his head a panicked voice was screaming. _You were meant to be mine! You are all I have!_

If there had been a wound Loki could have stopped the bleeding long enough to bring him back to the castle and the healing rooms, but what he found he did not know how to best deal with. Even though the armour and the fine, decorated cloth under it were torn apart, Anthony's skin was whole. The bolt had struck him in his lower abdomen, and beneath his skin Loki could see icy blue veins of light sneaking up toward his chest. Seeking out his heart.

”Loki...” He was struggling up on his elbows, despite the crippling pain, and made a choked noise of horror as he saw his own body. ”Give me the dagger!” He was reaching a trembling hand out for the weapon, still staring at his chest.

”Why would you -?”

”No time! Loki, _please_!”

The panic in his tone made Loki instantly, instinctively wipe the blade as clean as he could against his own sleeve, before he placed the handle in his open palm.

Anthony at once turned the blade around, against the center of his chest, sinking the tip into his own skin.

Horror exploded to life in Loki's heart at the sight. _”NO!”_

Loki was already reaching out to tear the weapon back, when he saw that Anthony wasn't stabbing himself with it, putting himself out of his misery – he was cutting something into the skin over his sternum. A circle, so steady and perfect despite his previously shaking hand, two triangles inside, one nestled in the other, nine little lines cut into place around them.

Then Anthony fell back on the ground, dagger dropping out of his hand, eyes tightly closed under drawn together brows, but he was still panting heavily, whining in pain with every exhale, as the blue magic was quickly slipping into his chest. Loki could do nothing but stare, helpless, as the ice-blue light came seeping out with the blood on his chest. But there he noticed that it didn't flow with the blood that was dripping down the sides of the once-mortal's ribcage, pooling in the hollows of his throat and stomach. Instead it stayed in the pattern Anthony had drawn with the blade, making the lines and curves of it glow ever brighter. The invading magic was held in place by whatever sign he had drawn into his body.

A sign Loki had never seen before. How did Anthony know to use something Loki had never taught him?

After a while all the magic had been gathered in the pattern. The blood stopped flowing from the broken skin then, Anthony's breathing eased a little, and his eyelids fluttered but didn't open.

Loki shuffled closer on the ground, slipping a hand behind his shoulders and one behind his legs, lifting him into his lap, holding him close to his chest. ”You fool”, he murmured into the brown hair, damp with sweat. ”You brave, _impossible_ fool! What did you _do_?”

He was still cradling Anthony's limp form, the hand weakly grasping at the front of Loki's armour the only sign that he was still hanging on to life and consciousness, when the others found him after the brief battle.

Asgard was safe, but Loki could no longer remember why that had felt important enough for him to betray everything he had ever loved. He would happily let Thor burn the kingdom down as long as he had his Anthony still with him when it was all ashes.

And as long as he made sure Jotunheim burned first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spending a few years in the library is apparently useful...  
> And I think you can all guess where this mess is headed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter I chose to focus mostly on Tony's perspective instead of retelling what we all know happened on Jotunheim and during Loki's talk with Odin afterward. It's enough that you know that those events are the same in this story...

”So there is nothing you can do for him?” Loki's tightly closed fist was resting on the side of Anthony's bed in the healing rooms, where his now unmoving, unconscious body was stretched out under a thin, golden sheet.

”I am sorry, highness, but what has already been done is the only possible help for him.” The healer fidgeted slightly. Loki saw it out of the corner of his eye, gaze firmly locked on Anthony's slack face. ”The magic is contained and can no longer harm him. We considered an attempt to drain it from him, but the nature of this spell is... resilient, my prince. As long as there is a drop of it left, it will continue to renew itself faster than we can leech it from his body. The only possibility would be to remove it all at once, but unfortunetely there is no way to achieve that.”

Loki nodded, and then waved the man away.

They had assured him that Anthony simply needed rest, and then he would wake up. How he would feel, if he would be well with this icy horror trapped in his chest? Well, no-one seemed to be able to answer that. But whatever Anthony had done with Loki's dagger, it had saved his life.

He was not alone by Anthony's bedside; his mother had joined him there when they had returned from the battle a few hours ago, and then never left.

Frigga's hand had kept caressing the back of Anthony's wrist, the expression in her face sad and pained, no doubt wondering why this day had to end with both her sons nearly having their hearts broken – Thor kept from the throne, Loki almost robbed of Anthony.

Loki knew he could have told her why. He could have told her exactly how the frost giants had found their way into Asgard. But telling her would mean breaking _her_ heart, and Loki couldn't do that.

”What does it mean?” His mother's gentle voice just barely reached him through his chaotic thoughts.

”Hmm?” Loki didn't look away from Anthony's face.

”The seal on his chest?”

”The what?” His words were still distracted, but now he glanced up and found her expression bewildered, gray eyes shifting over his face. That made him realize what she was asking, and that he needed to come up with a lie. But it seemed his mind was failing him and he simply couldn't. ”I don't remember”, he evaded.

”Don't remember?” She leaned closer across Anthony on the bed, looking even more concerned. ”Loki, darling, you never forget anything.”

He stared her for a moment, then back at the man on the bed, and swallowed. It worried him more than anything that he didn't know what Anthony had done, even if it had apparently helped. ”I will make everything all right again”, he promised, not sure if he was speaking to his mother or the man lying in front of him, and with that he leaned in, kissed Anthony's forehead and stood up to walk out.

”Loki!” His mother was calling after him, confused and anxious. ”What is going on?”

He stopped by the door and looked back at her, now on her feet. ”Please, mother. Watch over him for me. I will be back soon, and everything will be well.”

Before she could voice any objections he was out of the healing rooms, and headed to the only place he could imagine that his Anthony would have learned about seals. Because of course that was what this was. His mother using the word had triggered a faint memory, and now he needed to find out how this had happened.

The old librarian, an elfin woman he remembered had held this position at the palace since he had been a boy himself, greeted him with a bow.

”Has Anthony been visiting the library?” He noticed her blank look and growled. ”The mortal!”

”Yes, my prince.” The reply came quickly now. ”More or less every day the last few years.” She predicted his next question and saved him time by answering it without him having to ask. ”Mostly books on magic. Only the basic reading, of course, since the more advanced books are locked away. I have even checked on the locks when he left, but they had not been tampered with.”

Loki knew she was wrong about that, but he wasn't about to tell her. ”Show me anyway.”

The section on magic was bigger than Loki remembered. He hadn't been there in centuries, not since his own skills had passed the level of anything these volumes could possibly teach him. Searching through them would take too long, so he would have to ask.

”Are there any books here about magical seals?”

”Actually, highness, there is no such thing. Seals are by their very nature non-magical, they simply interact with the -”

Loki spun around, fixing her with a poisonous glare. ”Spare me the lecture and answer my question!”

She swallowed, nodded, and soon pointed to a heavy, worn book in a locked shelf to his right.

”Leave me.”

He didn't look up to see if she had; the swiftly retreating footsteps told him so. Instead he opened the glass doors, noting the simple nature of the lock and knowing that Anthony would have been able to open this in his sleep, and retrieved the book. Even though the librarians obnoxious little ramble had already told him the detail that explained to him why his Anthony would have sought out this kind of knowledge. And why Loki had never been the one to teach him.

Seals were the only way for something not magical in itself, to interfere and interact with a working spell. This was old teachings, ancient, mostly forgotten in a time and a place where magic was both at once dismissed as useless, and taken for granted. Loki had never bothered to learn, since he could do anything in this book with the use of his own magic. He had no need for the seals, so he had never learned, and never thought about them.

Anthony, on the other hand, must have been intrigued by this knowledge, eager to add it to his own skills. The only thing that could help him make up for the shortcomings of the ones he had been born with. And it was lucky that he had, or he would have been dead.

At last, the book fell open on a page showing a familiar design – two triangles nestled inside a circle, bound to it and each other by nine short, straight lines. Loki ran his fingertips over the image, before his eyes sought out the name of it. The Arch Seal. Able to bind any magic, but only when drawn in the artist's own fresh blood.

Loki shut the book with a thump, slid it back into place, closed the glass doors and felt the lock tie itself into place, before he turned and hurried out of the library. Heading for Thor's quarters.

Now, he was certain that Anthony would be safe.

Now, it was high time to extract revenge for what had happened to him. And all he would need to do to have it, was whisper the right words in his brother's ear.

* * *

When Anthony woke up he found himself on a bed in the healing rooms, all alone. He blinked at the golden lights under the far-away, arched ceiling, stretched, and groaned at the cold ache in his chest.

At first he couldn't remember what had happened, why he was here, but then it started trickling back into his mind. The coronation that never was, the attack, the frost giants, the icy magic cutting into his flesh and blood. Frowning, he slid a hand in under the soft cloth of the tunic they had dressed him in and slowly felt his chest. It was sore, but not as bad as he would have expected. The pattern he had cut into himself was faintly raised, much colder than the skin around it, but other than that it didn't feel too worrisome. Unless he let himself think about the fact that he had been forced to bind unknown, hostile magic in his chest so it wouldn't reach his heart.

He could feel the threads of this strange magic in there, vibrating just under his skin, but he knew there was nothing he could do with it. It was bound in the seal, in his very being, and he couldn't tinker with this, not when it was inside him. At least not in any way he knew of.

But he'd lived. That was all that mattered at the moment.

No, not quite all. He glanced around the wide room again, still finding it empty. Where was Loki? Had something happened to him? Anthony couldn't remember much after finishing drawing the seal in blood, but him being here alone didn't feel right.

Slowly he sat up on the bed, felt the ache increase with the movement and then ease up again, so he slid his legs off the mattress and stood up carefully. He was at least steady on his feet, dressed in pants of the same soft, light fabric as the tunic, and he made his way toward one of the door leading out of the room.

Anthony hadn't come far, just a step into the curving hallway the door led into, when he heard voices. Familiar voices.

He heard Sif speak up first, insistent, but he was still too far away to make out any words. As he took a few steps closer, he heard a much softer voice answer her, one he knew very well. Loki, he realized, relief flooding him. It was Loki speaking, and that meant he was well. But when his voice became louder it became clear that he was angry, words harsh and clipped. And Anthony stopped in the shadows outside the door between that healing room and his own, listening with mounting worry.

”You saw how he was today. Is that what Asgard needs from its king?”

A brief pause was followed by soft steps in a rhythm he knew was Loki walking away in the opposite direction.

”He may speak of the good of Asgard”, Sif said when all was quiet again, her voice slightly unsteady. ”But he's always been jealous of Thor.”

Anthony frowned. That wasn't right. Why would they think that? He had known Loki barely two centuries, and he had been a child much of that time – they had known him more than a millennium. How hadn't they seen by now that the only thing Thor had that Loki wished for, was acceptance? And that any one of them could have given it to him, at any time, but they had all chosen not to.

Simply because he wasn't like them.

It was a familiar thing to Anthony, because he had always been different too. But no-one had expected anything else from him, unlike from the second prince of Asgard. He had always known he was different for a reason; he was born on Midgard, Loki had told him so when he was still just a little boy. That's why he was smaller than everyone else, weaker and slower. He couldn't compete with the aesir because he wasn't meant to do so.

Loki had made sure he knew that. In its own way it had still hurt, knowing he wasn't like the others, but Loki had also made sure he knew it didn't mean he was any less because of it. The same could not be said for the rest of Asgard. No, they hadn't expected him to be like them, but they had still reserved the right to look down on him for being short and weak.

”They only know the way you are weaker than them on the outside, Little Ant”, he remebered Loki telling him once, when he had been upset after another round of getting his ass handed to him in the sparring ring. ”They don't know about all the ways you are far stronger on the inside.” He'd smiled that slow, mischievous smile that Anthony loved, and everything had felt better.

Over the years he had come to understand what Loki meant by that, learned that he was far more different from the aesir in his way of thinking than he was physically. Maybe that was why he understood Loki better than any of them. They were all so set in their ways, tradition and rules, every desicion moving slowly, both in the society and in the individual mind. New ideas were very few and far between, and more or less discouraged. The way things were was the way things were and that was the way they always would be.

If you were unhappy with your place, you were at fault. Asgard could be nothing but perfect – anyone in disagreement was simply flawed themselves.

Anthony's human mind rebelled against this culture as much by instinct as by choice. It was a brilliant and creative mind, it moved so much faster than the aesir could ever dream, and it always sought improvement, evolution, change. Things the people he lived with simply didn't believe in. They were the pinnacle of everything. Things couldn't be changed for the better anymore, only for the worse.

But Loki wasn't like that. He had a mind like Anthony's own. Quicksilver fast, smooth, adaptive, agile. New ideas were what kept him going.

No wonder they regarded him with suspicion – they simply couldn't understand him.

He couldn't focus on that right now however, because in the next room the warriors were still speaking.

”We should be grateful to him, he saved our lives.” That was Volstagg.

Frowning, Anthony wondered what had happened while he had been unconscious. It must have been truly bad, if they admitted to something like that out loud. And why wasn't Thor there? Why were they only speaking about him?

”Laufey said, there were traitors in the House of Odin.” Hogun's accented voice, as usual slow and thoughtful, when he spoke up at all. ”A master of magic could have brought the jotuns into Asgard.”

At once it felt like his heart dropped into his stomach. Had they been to _Jotunheim_? And spoken to the _king_? What was going on?! And was he impying that...? No... Couldn't be.

It felt like the people in the other room were taking this in as well, because there was an almost stunned silence. 

Then Fandral spoke up, sounding like he was trying to make his tone lighter, but anger was shining through before he was done. ”Loki's always been one for mischief, but you're talking about something else entirely.”

Was it anger at the implied accusation, though, or because he thought it might be true?

Anthony didn't stay to find out. He slipped away on bare, silent feet, convinced the healer who tried to stop him from leaving that he was just fine, that he would go rest in his own bed, and then hurried in that direction. As if about to obey. It wasn't his own door he stopped outside when he got there, though, but Loki's.

There came no reply from inside when he knocked, and he supposed Loki was probably busy at the moment anyway. If they had truly gone to Jotunheim there must be a war stirring in Asgard, and then the whole court would be in an uproar. So in the end he did go to his own room after all.

It was really too small for a grown man, still the same room where Loki had set up a nursery for him nearly two hundred years back. The bed had been changed to something more fitting a long time ago, the room repainted, toys packed up and taken away to be replaced by bookcases and weapon racks. But it was still the same room. He supposed he could have asked for a new one, and Loki would have made sure he had it, but there were too many fond memories lingering here, in the very walls, and he couldn't bear to leave it all behind.

He saw the piece of dragon hide rolled up on his table, and wished he'd taken the time to make that new arm guard before today. Maybe that wouldn't have protected him, but then maybe it would have.

Anthony changed out of the clothes from the healing room into his own – pants of smooth, studded leather, worn-soft boots, red tunic, red-and-black leather vest over it, long enough to reach his knees, collar high around his neck. He then sat down on his bed, and never managed to move. All he did was stare through the window, watching the sky turn darker as the sun set, the stars becoming clearer than they were during the day. Night fell as thoughts tumbled around in his head, finding no answers to any of his many questions.

When he finally stood again it was the middle of the night, he was stiff, sore again when he straightened his back and the skin stretched across his chest, but he didn't pay it any mind. He just left his room and went to Loki's door again. The prince must be back in his quarters by now, surely.

”Loki?” Still no answer. He swallowed, hesitated, and pushed the door open, surprised that it wasn't locked.

Something touched his shin when he stepped inside, and he flinched. Looking down, he saw what appeared to be a hair-thin wire reaching across the doorway. But only for a moment, then it flared green and dissolved into nothing. He had triggered an alarm. Then Loki was most likely not here.

Anthony was just moving to turn and leave, to go look for Loki somewhere else, when the prince stepped into the middle of the room, seemingly from out of a shadowy corner. His heart skipped a beat – but then it sank again. This wasn't his Loki. This was the shadow. Even though he looked just like the prince, dressed in his green cloth and black, supple leather, and was even fidgeting with his hands slightly in front of himself that way Loki always did when he was nervously trying to keep his composure – a habit he had noticed Loki had taken after his mother – he still knew this wasn't Loki. The shape was there, but it was hollow. 

Loki had said others couldn't tell him and his shadow apart, but Anthony had never understood how that was possible. To him they were as different as night and day.

A long time ago, Loki had promised to only send the shadow if he absolutely couldn't be there himself. Now Anthony was no longer afraid of it, like he had been when he was a little boy and had thought it was a ghost, but the promise had still been kept. And now he knew beyond a doubt that something really, truly horrible had happened.

He swallowed, and took a step into the room. ”Why can't you come to me?” 

The replica of Loki's face was pale, the green eyes looked too wide and too liquid. ”I cannot be near you”, his voice was strained, hoarse, barely more than a whisper. ”Do not come looking for me. It's not safe.”

”Why?” He took another step closer and was disconcerted to see the shadow actually step back away from him. ”What's not safe, Loki?” Even though he had a cold, sick feeling in his gut that he knew what the answer would be.

The shadow's lips parted, showing nothing but darkness inside, as if Loki hadn't managed to make him look real. No words came out. And then the shadow shattered, breaking apart into a million fragments flicking out into nothing.

”Don't you dare”, Anthony muttered as he turned and ran out of the room, into his own. ”Don't you dare leave me!” And a voice in his mind added: _”Because you're meant to be mine, and you are all I have!”_

In his room he quickly gathered up anything small of value he owned – the dragon hide, a heap of coins, the mistletoe brooch Loki had given him long ago, made sure the green jewel on its siler chain was still around his neck – pulled on a leather armour that didn't fit as well as the one that had been destroyed during the day, and picked up his bow and quiver.

He left the palace, heading for the forest, strangely certain of where he would find Loki. Much less certain he would ever return to the only place he had known as home.


	7. Chapter 7

The Sapling was so huge it towered over the entire forest, boughs heavy above the surrounding trees. Loki had explained to Anthony once that every Realm had its own shadow of the World Tree, binding the core of the world to the heavens above. This ash tree was Asgard's.

Loki had also told him that was where he had found him. That the reason he knew Anthony had been meant for him, was because the Tree had sent him. They hadn't talked about that in many years, and he hadn't thought about it, even though he had – of course – never forgotten. Yet somehow he knew, just knew, that he would find Loki somewhere in the shadow of the Sapling now. If there was one place Loki thought of as safe, it was there.

So he was relieved but not surprised when he found the prince among the serpentine roots bulging under grass and moss, his head bowed, a pale hand pressed to the bark of he immense trunk of the tree. Dawn was breaking, and there was just enough light to see him clearly when Anthony walked closer.

”Loki?”

He didn't turn, but Anthony saw him tense, shoulders pulling closer to his ears. ”I told you not to come looking for me.”

”If you thought I would listen to that, then you don't know me at all.”

A twig snapped under his foot then, making Loki realize just how close he had come, and he whirled around, the hand leaving the tree trunk to instead ward him off. ”No closer, Anthony. It's not safe.”

He kept on walking, slowly, until he was within arm's reach, and then stopped. ”It's you, Loki. There's nowhere safer than with you.”

”You have no idea how wrong you are.” Loki gnawed on his lips as his eyes dropped to Anthony's chest. His raised hand moved, pale fingertips brushed by the blue-white glow showing through the weave of Anthony's tunic, just visible above the edge of of his armour, not quite touching him. Then Loki snatched his hand back. ”This was my doing. I'm so sorry.” Loki sighed. ”You should never have been there. You were meant to be safe in the palace.”

And again Anthony heard Hogun's words: _”A master of magic could have brought the jotuns into Asgard.”_ He no longer held any doubts to the truth of them. But he couldn't understand how it could be true.

”Why, Loki? Why did you let them in?”

”Just a bit of fun.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in something not quite a smirk. ”Really. I needed to show them, teach them that Thor was not yet ready to take the throne, that he was still too arrogant, too reckless. And I was right. Even Odin saw it, in the end.” The twisted smirk grew, before it suddenly dropped away and his green eyes locked with Anthony's. ”But I never, _ever_ meant for you to come into harm's way. Truly. No matter what they tell you once I'm gone, I swear, that is the truth.”

Anthony scowled, moving one step closer, only to have Loki back away from him once more, bringing his back flush with the trunk of the Sapling. ”You're not going anywhere. And what would they say, Loki? What happened on Jotunheim?”

A tiny hint of a flinch passed by on Loki's face at the name. But he said nothing.

”What happened? Please, tell me.” When all he got was a shock-blank stare, Anthony suddenly felt anger snap to life in him. Helpless, frustrated, frightened anger. He shot forward, hands fisting around the leather edges at the front of Loki's clothing. _”Tell me!”_

The words hit Loki like a slap, making him startle and snap his head back. Suddenly he was snarling, and ripped Anthony's hands off himself, pushing him away. ”Don't touch me, you fool!” Once he was free, he pressed himself harder back against the Sapling. ”I'm a monster, always have been, and if you come too close I might hurt you again, without meaning to.”

Now it was Anthony's turn to stare in shock, but the dam holding back Loki's words had already burst, and they were flooding out with terrible, ragged force.

”He stole me from Jotunheim, along with the Casket. He told me so himself. How he had planned to use me to rule Asgard and Jotunheim both. But I will _not_ be his stolen relic to use! No longer! And I cannot live this... lie.” He pulled a shuddering breath, at last slowing down. ”So I am leaving. Today.”

No hesitation preceded the response. ”Then I'm joining you.”

”Didn't you hear me?! I am a frost giant, Anthony!” Loki's hands were fists, closed so tight his knuckles were bright white in the fading light. ”There is no joining me, only getting far away, to safety, or taking up arms to slay the monster. Nothing else! Now, which one will you choose?”

”I already told you what I choose.”

”You chose wrong.” Loki's words were cold now. ”Try again.”

”No, I won't. Shut up, right now, and stop this.” He moved closer again, crowding Loki agains the trunk of the vast tree, stubbornly fighting to get closer still. Loki was pushing him back, but it was painfully obvious he didn't dare to be too rough, that he was afraid to hurt Anthony, even now. ”No, Loki, stop this. Listen, no, stop, _stop, STOP!_ ” 

At the last word whe threw his full weight into Loki's chest, through the last of his desperate defenses, and stretched up on his toes, pressing a hard, angry kiss to the corner of his half-open mouth, just as he was about to answer. It was all closed lips almost slamming into him, and it took Loki like a warhammer to the gut. He stared in stunned silence when Anthony drew back a little, and then his knees buckled.

Without Anthony knowing it himself, his arms had forced themselves around the back of Loki's neck and shoulders, and Loki's arms, no longer trying to fight him off, had wrapped around his waist in turn. So when Loki dropped, Anthony had no choice but to drop with him. They ended up in a tangled heap among the roots, with him more or less in Loki's lap, the backs of his hands torn and bloody from being scraped against the rough bark in the movement, but Anthony barely noticed.

For what felt like a long time, they sat completely unmoving there, staring at each other. Then Loki blinked and looked around them. He frowned, bewildered, as if he hadn't realized where they were before then. Parhaps he hadn't.

”This is the place where I found you. Here. Lying right in this spot where we are now.” When he looked back, his eyes were glazed with tears. ”Why would the Tree send you here, only to be found by a monster? Why leave you in my hands, when I would be all you had?” Suddenly it looked like he had an epiphany of some sort, blinking, lips parting, and the laughter Loki gave then sounded like something broken rattling out of him. ”Easy to forget how little he truly has”, he muttered, and Anthony thought he recognized Friggas words from years ago. ”No ties of blood. No family. Nowhere to go...” He closed his eyes and thumped his head back against the Sapling's bark a few times. ”I thought she meant _you_.” Another broken chuckle. ”She meant the both of us.”

”Perhaps the Tree knew that when She sent me.” He placed his hands on Loki's wide shoulders through the thick leather, trying to steady them both. ”Knew that when we had nothing else, we would have each other.”

Loki blinked at him, his eyebrows knotted together in a distressed twist, and he said nothing.

So Anthony continued instead. ”Frigga was right. I've never had a family, or even really a home. Only somewhere I was allowed to stay.” He settled his palms on the sides of Loki's head now, turned it gently, held their gazes locked. ”But that was all right, because I had _you_. You were my family and my home and my friend and I can't imagine any kind of life without you.”

Loki's eyes squeezed shut, as if Anthony's words pained him. ”Then all you had was a lie.”

”No, it wasn't.” He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. ”You're no lie, Loki. They may have lied to you, but that doesn't make anything you've ever done for me less true.”

”I almost killed you”, Loki objected in a torn whisper.

”I nearly got _myself_ killed, coming after you into the field after you had told me not to. Remember?”

Loki shook his head, rubbing his forehead against Anthony's. Not in answer to the question, just plain denial. Of everything.

”I wanted to wipe them all out of existense”, he muttered. ”Every single one. For hurting you. For nearly taking what is mine.” He sucked in a gasp, choking. ”Only to find out I am one of them. And if they deserve to die for hurting you, then -”

Anthony listened with mounting horror, until he twitched back, ripped a hand free from behind Loki's neck, scraping the torn skin even more, and slapped it over Loki's mouth. ”Don't! Never even think... You... Don't you ever _dare_ to... Just... don't...” His words faltered.

After staring at him a moment with wide, liquid eyes, Loki blinked. Tears, huge and glittering in the morning light, rolled down to wet Anthony's hand. Then Loki's hold on his back tightened convulsively, almost painfully. He buried his face by Anthony's neck and shoulder, making him release the grip on his mouth, and dissolved into shuddering, gasping, brokenhearted sobs.

Pressing his own face into Loki's tangled hair, wetting it with his own more silent tears, Anthony held on to him. Hard. Trying with all his might to hold him together, to not let the shattered pieces of him fall apart.

”I love you”, he murmured by what he hoped was Loki's ear under the black hair.

He had never said those words out loud before. They had always been true, but he had taken it for granted, and he had always assumed Loki would know. Because Loki knew everything. But apparently there had been things in the world Loki hadn't known, so perhaps he needed to be told about this as well.

The arms around Anthony's back gripped him so hard he thought he could feel his ribs creaking, but he couldn't make a protest. He just held Loki closer in turn, let the man rock them both with his sobs until they slowly began to ease up.

It was a long time until Loki stopped crying altogether, and by the time he was breathing more easily Anthony had tossed his stiff leather armour aside and pulled them to the ground, curled up around each other on the grass. He never stopped combing his fingers through Loki's hair, never let go.

When the sun was right above the Sapling, shining through the boughs and leaves between them and the star-filled skies, Loki at last fell asleep, arms still clinging to Anthony's body.

* * *

He was still holding on to Anthony when he woke up, but by then the once-mortal was the one who was asleep. One of his hands tangled in Loki's hair, the other resting between their chests, his face soft and serene, as if there was nothing wrong with falling asleep embraced by a monster.

Loki stayed like that for a long time, watching Anthony's face. The marked hairline and eyebrows, long, black lashes fanning over his cheekbones, the sharp lines of his nose, soft lips parted, that beard, still looking so unfamiliar while suiting him so well. And he knew all his plans would have to change.

They were both strangers in this Realm, he knew that now. Neither of them had ever been truly accepted, and if Loki left him behind, Anthony would have no-one. He would be alone to face the contempt and isolation. Loki couldn't do that. No matter what, Anthony was his, and his responsibility. When he left Asgard – as he knew he must do, that plan could not be changed – he also had to bring Anthony with him.

Still, staying close to Anthony himself was a danger as well. Loki's actions had nearly cost the man his life already, and now, knowing what was hiding under his own skin, he couldn't risk doing it again. Or something worse. Without even meaning to, not knowing how to stop himself.

He had to leave Asgard, and take Anthony with him. Make sure he was safe. From everything. 

Even from Loki himself.

* * *

”I still don't see why we can't simply use the Bifrost, Loki.” Scowling, rubbing a hand back through his hair, Anthony leaned forward to look down the strange, twisting tunnel of tree trunks, bushes and tangled vines. The air just by the point where the dim lights turned to darkness seemed to shimmer in an odd way.

He was happy Loki had agreed to let him come with him away from Asgard, once they had woken up, but this gave him an uneasy feeling, tangling his insides into knots.

”No-one can know where we have gone. I need to be away from here, and this way they cannot follow.”

Anthony turned a pinched, frowning face on him. ”Where does it lead? Can you at least tell me that?”

”Midgard.”

He blinked. ”Midgard?” He stuttered slightly in surprise.

”I promised we would go there, didn't I?” Loki managed a pale hint of a smile. ”This way, at least one of us can go home.”

Returning the smile with some more warmth, Anthony reached out and clasped Loki's hand in his. He could feel it try to twitch away, but he held on. ”You're home to me, anywhere.”

Loki's smile wavered, his eyes turned even more pained, and then he looked down the green, shadowy tunnel. But his fingers wrapped a little tighter around Anthony's. ”Come”, he murmured, without looking back, and started leading Anthony down the tunnel.

He trusted Loki enough to follow, even though the gathering shadows and the shimmering, shifting air by the darkness in front of them still made him feel uneasy. Swallowing down his worry he bowed down a little and walked deeper into the tunnel, staying close to Loki while leaves brushed by his face and branches scratched at his clothes. In front of them the shimmering darkness was coming closer, and Anthony found himself squeezing Loki's hand harder.

”It will be fine, Anthony. You will be safe.” Loki's eyes were greener than ever in the light filtered through the leaves above as he glanced over his shoulder. ”Now, pull a deep breath, and close your eyes. I will lead you through.”

After a brief moment of hesitation he gave a quick nod, sucked in a long breath, expanding his chest until the seal on his sternum burned, and closed his eyes.

They took two more steps on grass, dry leaves, twigs and soil. Then Anthony's foot landed on nothing, and he tumbled into darkness. He never even had time to open his eyes again before he was lost to all the worlds.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he woke up again. With a groan he put his hand to his sore head, slowly sat up, and looked around. He was in the middle of a green field, tall grass moving in a soft breeze under a night sky with far too few stars strewn across it. In the far distance that sky was tinted in reddish gold, and he thought there might be a city there, a large one, its lights bleeding into the night.

He was also alone.

”Loki?” The wind was his only answer, and he struggled to his feet, turning in a quick circle, looking around. ”Loki!”

Nothing but night air and unfamiliar constellations above.

”Please don't do this, Loki.” It was just a whisper now, his throat tight. ”Don't leave me here.”

It wasn't until then that Anthony realized he was holding something in a tight grip in his hand. So tight his fingers ached. Frowning he made himself loosen the death grip, and stared at the cloudy, green gem and long silver chain resting on his palm. The stone Loki had once conjured for him, if he ever needed Loki's help. The one he had always been carrying around his neck.

He knew Loki must have placed it in his hand before he left. For a reason. As a message. Telling him that if Anthony needed him, he would come. Which had to mean that even if he had still left, run away from him, he had to be on Midgard as well. Otherwise the messenger Anthony sent would never find him.

Part of him was tempted to send the messenger after Loki now, at once, finding him again. But he knew it would be a waste. Loki had done this for a reason, and he would never allow himself to be found so soon. He was also fairly certain that somewhere in the night, Loki was still close enough to be watching, making sure he was safe.

Another part wanted to throw the thing as far as he could across the empty field. But he didn't. Even though he was angry, hurt, feeling the sting of both abandonment and betrayal, he knew he would regret it the instant he let go.

So instead he hung the chain back around his neck where it belonged, turned toward the city lights in the distance, and started walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so maybe I cried a little writing this. Hush.


	8. Chapter 8

Loki never slept well anymore. He had always been a light sleeper, often followed by restless dreams, but since he had fled to Midgard it was worse than ever. He tried to tell himself it was the unfamiliar Realm, all the painful revelations that had driven him from his former home, but he knew that wasn't it.

Anthony. It was all Anthony. He missed him so much it ached, and still knew he couldn't return to him. Keeping Anthony safe was the most important thing. He could never be allowed to be hurt again.

A stubborn, nagging little part of Loki, all sharp, gnawing teeth, told him he had already failed: he had hurt Anthony when he had left him. It was probably true. But it was a necessary betrayal, he told himself. It had needed to be done.

Even so, he never slept well anymore. And the pain in Anthony's parting words to him never quite stopped chafing at his heart.

Of course he was never far away from his Anthony. Not really. He followed his adventures in this new Realm, his true home, which soon became very simple as his Anthony – as expected – made a name for himself, very quickly. Loki couldn't stop himself from meddling, either. Just in small, simple things, and he doubted Anthony would ever notice. But he stayed away from him, stayed hidden.

At last he gave up on trying to go to sleep this night. It was barely midnight yet, but he knew it was still hopeless. Loki sighed, stretched, and sat up, when something on top of his nightstand caught his eyes. 

It was a butterfly, it's soft wings a cloudy shade of green that Loki knew far too well. The magical little critter's wings moved slowly, restlessly, as if it was eager to take off again. Its long, thread-thin antennas waved at him, impatiently.

His Anthony had sent a message. He needed Loki's help.

Loki was out of the bed and had magicked a suit onto his body in less than a heartbeat. Then he swept the butterfly up in his hand, tucked it in a pocket of his vest, right by his heart, and disappeared.

* * *

The only thing people could ever really agree on when it came to Tony Stark, was that the guy was sort of a mystery.

He had popped up out of seemingly nowhere barely a year ago, and moved through the world of physics, programming, electronics and engineering like a whirlwind. Some said he had about four or five doctorates in different fields, others that he had no known association with any university in the world. They all agreed he was filthy rich, but no-one was sure how that had come about – some said a heap of different patents, others that his money came from far more illicit dealings. Either way, anything he touched just seemed to turn to gold, and people said that if any man had ever had a guardian angel, it had to be him.

Just when people thought he couldn't be any more of a mystery, he invented the most impossible kind of power source – the Arch Reactor, he called it, apparently – and used it to run his oddly designed tower in the middle of Manhattan, with his name plastered all over it.

Few were ever invited to go to the many floors dedicated to research and development. Being allowed to see the man's private accomodations at the top of the building was even more rare.

He had no family that people knew of, the closest thing he had to a friend seemed to be his personal assistant, the prim and proper Miss Potts. Who most people also assumed had to be his girlfriend, since the guy was never seen with any women in public.

Even though they assumed and suspected much, no-one really knew anything.

And then Doctor Doom launched an attack on New York, where a man in a red, flying suit of armour joined the city's defenders and blasted him and his robotic doubles out of the skies. Before the clean-up was even done, rumours were running wild about the identity of the armoured super hero – until Tony Stark held a press conference, and revealed his part in saving the city from destruction.

And the mystery deepened even more.

* * *

”Tell me, Anthony – do I call you Iron Man these days?”

Tony startled at the sound of a voice he hadn't heard in over a year. Then he quirked a small smile and continued pouring the drink he had walked over to the bar to get himself, not even glancing over his shoulder before he spoke. ”Quite catchy, isn't it? I mean it's not technically accurate – the suit's not made of iron, that would be too heavy even for me – but I still like it.” Then he turned, finding Loki standing with his back to him, dressed in what looked like a dark gray suit, hands clasped behind his back and looking out over the city lights. ”I go by Tony Stark, actually. You might have heard.”

”That I have.” There was a smile in Loki's voice. ”I think you chose that family name wisely.”

He hadn't really. It had been more of a chance thing when he first realized that on Earth, he was expected to have one, and he had picked the first thing to come into his mind to put on paper. Stark. It meant ”strong” in asgardian, although pronounced a bit differently than here, he had discovered. It was what he had known he would have to be, in this new life, all on his own for the first time he could remember.

Then he had found out that here, it carried the meaning of something in sharp contrast, harsh, bare, desolate. And it had felt more fitting than ever. So he had ended up sticking with it.

Next to that, the common, shortened form of his given name – Tony – felt so small and soft and unassuming. Every time he signed a document with those two names, such opposites side by side, it made him smile a little.

”And you have made an impressive life for yourself here.”

”You knew I would.”

”I did. If not, I would never have left you.” Loki turned then, and Tony couldn't help staring, drinking in the sight of him. He looked thinner than he had, sharper and wilder, green eyes bright, his black hair much longer, a bit past his shoulders, and no longer so neatly slicked back over his head. It suited him. Just like the sleek, well-tailored look of his dark suit, the silvery shirt under the vest, and his emerald green tie. Almost made Tony feel underdressed in his slacks and shirt. ”But you did even better than I had hoped, considering the lack of magic in this Realm.”

Tony poured another drink on a whim, picked up both glasses and walked over to Loki, offering him one. There was a brief hesitation, then he accepted it. Careful not to let his long, pale fingers, slimmer than before, touch Tony's as he picked the glass from his hand.

”No, there's no magic here”, Tony agreed as he turned his head to look outside, taking in the view Loki had studied before. ”Not much of it, at least. But what they do have? Their sciences? Physics, math, electronics, _computers_... Oh, they are so _close_ , so damn close, and they don't even know.” He shook his head with a smile he didn't realize was on his face. ”But they'll get there. Soon, probably. They're curious, determined, innovative like you wouldn't believe.”

There was a short silence Loki made no attempt to fill, so Tony continued. ”I see it, you know? Just like the threads of magic. Equations, numbers, code – I can see all of it, follow it anywhere I want. Tinker with it any way I want. That's how I got myself this life.” He glanced at Loki with a smirk. ”And it combines with magic, really well.”

Loki frowned. ”I thought you said there wasn't much of it here?”

”There isn't. Or wasn't.” He raised a hand and tapped it against his chest, where the blue glow was carefully hidden behind thick fabric. ”I brought it with me.”

”Oh.” Loki eyed his chest for a moment, and then took a large swallow from his glass before turning away. ”I see.”

For a long while they stood in silence, side by side, watching the night, sipping their drinks. Until Tony spoke up again.

”I would be lying if I said I wasn't angry with you. I was. For the first few months. But then I knew I should have seen it coming. You said it yourself – you didn't want to be close to me. You were afraid you might hurt me without meaning to.” He turned to Loki with a bitter little smile in place. ”I suppose it would be sort of cruel of me to point out the fact that you did hurt me, by abandoning me?”

Loki kept looking straight ahead, but Tony could see the muscles in his jaw flexing as he clenched his teeth, cheek turning pale.

”I thought so.” He sighed and emptied his drink. ”So yes, I was angry. I was hurt. But I got over it, because I knew that sooner or later, you would be back.”

”And why were you so sure of that?”

”I was meant for you”, Tony said, softly, but it still made Loki's head whip around to face him, hair flaring, eyes wide. ”You always used to tell me so. And I know you, Loki – you would never leave something of yours behind forever.”

Their eyes remained locked on each other, until Tony casually reached out to take the empty glass from Loki and walk back to the bar to put them both away on the counter. When he started walking back to the windows he noticed that Loki was still staring at him, slightly pained lines drawn around his pressed together lips. He kept walking, until he was right inside Loki's personal space.

”Besides, you never really left, did you?”

Loki's face stayed unmoving, but his eyes flitted quickly between Tony's and that was all the admission he needed.

”Oh, I've noticed”, Tony assured him with a tight smile. ”As I said, my tinkering has gotten me this life, but even so? No, some things just went a bit too smoothly. Information I needed showing up out of nowhere, competition being led off track at convenient times, my own tracks disappearing right behind me, so neatly I barely knew I'd been there myself...” The smile brightened. ”You never left.”

For a moment, Loki looked stunned. As if he had thought Tony would never see through his secret, as if Tony didn't recognize the signs of Loki's own brand of tinkering by now. Then a slow smile spread across his lips as well.

Then Tony could no longer hold back. The next moment he had his arms tightly wrapped around Loki's shoulders, feeling him tense as Tony pressed his face to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of him. He remained rigid and unmoving for just a little while, then his arms came to curl around Tony's back, dragging him in even closer than he had been. And Tony felt himself truly relax for the first time in a year.

Yes, they had been separated for longer when Loki had traveled the Nine Realms with Thor, but Tony had been prepared for that, and he had known when it would be over. This time Loki had disappeared out of sight like a dream, and even though Tony truly had been sure he would return, he had never known when he would choose to show himself again.

Now it felt like he was finally home, and he was never letting go. Never again.

* * *

Loki let his eyes slide shut, felt a long, slow sigh leave him, and for a while simply enjoyed being back with his Anthony. Feeling strong arms around him, steady breathing and a beating heart against his chest.

”You won't leave me again.” The words were firm, a warm caress of breath and lips against the side of his neck.

Pressing his eyes shut tighter, Loki pulled in a breath to speak. ”Anthony, I -”

”Shut up.” Fingertips dug into his shoulders, the arms around him clamping down so hard they felt like steel. ”That wasn't a suggestion. Or a request, or even a fucking order, all right? I stated a fact. You won't leave. That is just the way it is. Deal with it.”

He found no words, so he just buried his face by Anthony's neck in turn.

”You've never actually understood, have you?” The hands and arms around Loki softened enough that a thumb could rub gentle circles through the fabric of his suit. ”All these years, you've known I was meant for you, but you never figured out that you were meant for me, too. One comes with the other.” Now Anthony pulled back, gently, until their eyes could meet. ”I can understand your reasons for leaving – although I don't agree with them – and I knew you would come back. So I forgive you. I do. But you won't leave me again. _Ever_. Got that?”

There was a hard, almost metallic glint in the brown eyes pinning Loki. Anthony's jaw was set, the hands still clasping Loki's shoulders were firm, unyielding. He was fully prepared to fight.

Loki for his part, had come here fully prepared to leave again, once he had helped Anthony with whatever troubles had made him desperate enough to call for Loki's aid. He hadn't been prepared to be asked to stay. Anthony was safer without him, he was so sure of that, and he had been sure that Anthony would know as well. That he would see reason and be grateful – and relieved to be rid of Loki, most likely. He had not expected this adamant statement that he was expected to stay. Indefinitely.

But what Anthony had said did ring true – if he was meant to be Loki's, then Loki must be meant to be his. Even if he couldn't understand why the Norns had decided to punish this mortal's offspring that way.

”I only wished to spare you being tied to a monster.” He clenched his teeth. ”You should -”

Then, just like under the Sapling, he found himself with Anthony's palm slapped over his mouth, silencing him.

”What I _should_ , is tell you to stop calling yourself that. _My Loki_ is no monster, and I will not have anyone say any different. Not even you.”

There was a strange shift between them then. Before, Loki had always been the one with the power, the one making choices and decisions for both of them. Because Anthony was too young, or lacking skill and knowledge, or because Loki was the prince and the one in charge. Now, when Anthony's dark, angry eyes were staring him down, that was no longer true. Loki still had the advantage of age and strength and magic, but the balance of power was not the same, even so.

Loki had left Anthony to fend for himself, and he had. He had proven himself in his own eyes, and he had grown. Loki had lost himself, given up his home and his title, and had become less than what he had been.

For the first time, Loki found himself thinking of them as equals. Not because he had looked down on Anthony before. Not even for a moment! But Loki had been the one to protect him, to care for him. Now Anthony was the one protecting him – even from himself.

Slowly, Loki nodded under the hand still over his mouth. Staying was what he truly wanted, after all, even if he still thought it very unwise.

Anthony took his hand away, wrapped his arms back around Loki and held on a little while longer, silent, both of them breathing each other in. When he at last stepped back altogether, he wiped a hand over his face, and Loki saw it coming away wet. He didn't comment on it; he knew his own eyes were far from dry.

”So”, Loki started and then had to clear his tight throat. ”You knew I was close. You are doing well, with or without me, and you knew I would come to you, eventually, on my own.” He slipped a hand under the front of his jacket, his fingers into his vest pocket, and then he was holding a hand in front of himself, cradling a cloudy green butterfly in his palm, its wings still moving faintly, restlessly. ”And yet you sent for me.”

”I did”, Anthony confirmed with a glance at the butterfly. 

”Why?”

Anthony bit his lip, eyes dropping for a moment of hesitation. Then he met Loki's gaze again, all serious now. ”I didn't send for you to help me.” He swallowed. ”I sent for you... because I found Thor.”

Loki blinked. His hand closed sharply around the butterfly, turning it to a puff of green-and-gold dust that quickly dissolved between his fingers. ”Tell me”, he whispered. ”Tell me everything.”

”I will”, Anthony promised. ”It's kind of a long story, but I will. And then you will explain to me why the heir apparent to the throne of Asgard has been on Midgard just as long as we have, because I somehow suspect you knew all along.”

Shaking his head, gaze lost in the distance, Loki had to rest a hand on Anthony's shoulder for support. ”I didn't know. Although I _was_ partly responsible for him being banished from Asgard.”

After a while of silence, he noticed the man's dark eyes staring at him. ”Two long stories”, he muttered when he saw Loki's eyes meet his. ”I can tell. Come on, let's sit down for this. I believe we'll need it.”


	9. Chapter 9

In the end they settled for Loki being the one to tell his story first, and it wasn't really such a long one after all. Anthony already knew that Loki, Thor and the others had gone to Jotunheim, and what Loki had discovered there, quite by accident. All that was left was to fill in how he had gently talked Thor into attacking the frost giants in their own Realm, while under the guise of begging him to see sense and stay on Asgard, obeying his father's orders.

Sif and the Warriors Three had been reluctant, but Thor had talked them into it quickly enough once Loki's hints had taken root.

Loki had made sure Odin would find out where they had all gone, because even when he craved his fill of jotun blood, he was reasonable enough to know that the six of them could never conquer Jotunheim on their own. He had hoped they could do enough damage to satisfy his need for revenge before the All-Father arrived to save them – and to see his son's true face.

Then a frost giant had grabbed his arm, and everything else had lost its meaning. Not even the idea of coming home to find Anthony safe and sound had mattered anymore, because he couldn't allow himself to come close, terrified of both fearful, disgusted rejection and doing more damage to him. 

He didn't say all of that. Not even most. But when he reached that part of the story, Anthony still shifted closer on the seat of the sofa where they had placed themselves to share their experiences. Anthony didn't comment, but simply settled his arm around Loki's lower back and left it there in silent support, his cheek warm against Loki's shoulder when he tilted his head to rest it there. Loki never glanced at him, but he still drew some unexpected strength from the gesture.

When they had all returned to Asgard, Loki had expected Thor to get a slap on the wrist, at the most his coronation being postponed for a decade or two. It had honestly shocked him to the core when Odin had stripped his son of his powers and sent him and Mjölner off he knew not where. Now he knew – it had been to Midgard.

”He can't lift it anymore”, Anthony interjected there, raising his head from Loki's shoulder to speak.

”What?!” Shocked all over again, Loki turned to gape at him. Even when he had known that Thor was banished and made mortal, he couldn't imagine a Thor who could not lift his own Hammer.

”It's still out in the desert where they both landed a year ago.”

”How do you know that?” Frowning in curious bewilderment, Loki turned more, feeling Anthony's arm slide along his back.

He smirked. ”We'll get to that part. Now, keep going with this one.”

There wasn't much more. Only Loki seeking out the final proof of his heritage by picking up the Casket of Ancient Winters in the weapons vault – where he was found by Odin who rather reluctantly revealed the whole sorry truth, before abruptly falling into Sleep. After that he had fled the palace, and as far as he knew, no-one knew why or where he had gone.

”And the rest, I believe you know.” He leaned back in his seat and settled his eyes on Anthony's face, waiting for his story.

”Well...” The brown eyes narrowed for a moment as he thought of a place to begin. ”You know most of what has been going on in my life, I'm sure, so no need to start from the beginning. But there are some things you have probably missed, since they have been kept secret, by both me and others.” He raked a hand back through his hair and faced Loki. ”There is this organization around here who are very interested in... extraordinary people. Both those who could be a threat, and those who could help counter those threats. They were trying to figure out which kind I was when I built the Arch Reactor, but the fact that I used it as a power source and not to blow up the city made them convinced enough of my good intentions to approach me.

”I didn't feel like having anything to with them at that point, so I brushed them off. But then, when Doom came sweeping in and messed up my city, I had to use the suit to take him down. It was too soon, really, it wasn't all the way tested and ready, but I had no choice at that point.”

”This suit of yours”, Loki interrupted, ”I would very much like to see it.”

”Oh, you will. Trust me.” Anthony's eyes glimmered with pleased pride, but then he made himself carry on with the story at hand. ”Anyway, after that they approached me again. That was just, what, three days ago now? Well, now they were a lot more insistent that I join forces with them, so they invited me out to this flying fortress they have built for themselves, where their director could have a chat with me. Try to make me see reason. I told them I would consider it, and left – but not before I had managed to leave a device behind that would let me access their whole system from a distance.”

Loki couldn't hold back a chuckle. ”They should never have let you inside their defenses, not before they had you firmly on their side.”

”That they should not.” Anthony grinned, all mirth and teeth and mischief. ”Now, I know every single dirty little secret they have ever tried to hide. Which is a _lot_ , let me tell you. It took about a day for my program to run, then another day to sort through most of what I found for anything interesting, and that was when I found Thor.

”They discovered Mjölner shortly after they fell, and have worked on figuring the thing out – and moving it – for a long time. Obviously without any sort of success. After almost six months, word of what was going on reached Thor, who was living not far away, and he attempted to get into their compound and retrieve the Hammer, also without any sort of success, I might add.”

That felt wrong. Loki leaned forward again, eyebrows wrinkled together. ”How did it take him that long?”

”See, this is where it gets interesting...” Anthony turned more fully toward him. ”Thor met a woman when he first fell. A really bright scientist who has written some quite genius work and is very close to grasping the workings of the Bifrost. She actually ran into him with her car, would you believe it?”

Loki could just slowly shake his head, mute.

”No, me neither. But apparently, that happened. And she promptly decided to take him in and let him stay with her. She must have done something right, because not long after that he found himself a job, and seemed to be settling in fairly well. Until SHIELD – that's the name of the organization – became a little sloppy and rumours of what they were doing out there in the desert reached Thor. 

”I believe that before that day, he had no idea Mjölner was on Earth with him.”

That made more sense. ”So he attempted to retrieve what is his, failed, and then what?”

”SHIELD imprisoned him.” Anthony turned serious now. ”They knew he was no such thing as a simple factory worker, they realized he had some sort of connection to the Hammer, even though he refused to tell them what, and so they didn't let him go. That was about five months ago, and they still have him. Right on that flying fortress they brought me to, at that, and I had no idea.” It was easy to tell that this knowledge bothered him. ”The mortal woman he lived with is, needless to say, torn up. She has been looking for him all this time, but can't find him.”

Loki settled his elbows on his thighs, bent his head and stared as his hands, clasped together between his spread knees. His head and his heart were both thorny, tangled messes of thoughts and feelings, and he had no idea how to even begin teasing them apart.

Some part of him was taking a perhaps not so little bit of twisted satisfaction in knowing that Thor, the mighty, arrogant warrior prince, was now a helpless mortal, captured and cut off from his priced weapon. Perhaps it would serve to humble him, at least slightly.

At the same time this kind of brotherly bond, born of a millennium of growing up together, fighting and playing together, couldn't be brushed away simply because he now knew there were no ties of blood between them. Thor had not always been a loyal brother, but then, neither had Loki. At least he was convinced that Thor had known nothing of Loki's true birth. The oaf could never have kept a secret like that, surely.

In his heart of hearts, Loki still loved the brother he had once had, when they were innocent boys who knew nothing of honour and worth. And even though that brother might be gone forever, along with the rest of Loki's illusion of a family, the humiliation of having _his brother_ be held prisoner by mere mortals... He wouldn't stand for that.

He sat up straight again and turned to Anthony's thoughtful face. ”We have to get him out.”

A smile greeted those words. ”Yes, I suspected you would want that.”

”And it can be done?”

”What kind of question is that?” Anthony chuckled. ”We can do anything.” He reined in his amusement a little then, but the smile never fully faded. ”Of course, it will take some tinkering. But yes, it can be done. I'm sure of it.”

Loki smiled back. ”When do we start?”

* * *

Tony was pretty sure Loki would have been happy to start working on whatever they needed to get Thor out of SHIELD's hands right there and then, but it was by now almost 3.30 AM and neither of them had slept in a long time. He didn't even have to ask Loki to know that; the shadows under his eyes and his restlessly fidgeting hands told him. For his own part, he had pored over the information stolen from the helicarrier for almost two days straight, and he needed rest. There was still more to find there, he had no doubts about that, and to find it, and then do some tinkering, he would need a clear head.

So he made the decision that it was time to get some much needed sleep.

”And here I wanted to see the famous Iron Man suit”, Loki said, a teasing smirk in his voice, as they made their way out of the livingroom.

”No need to worry.” Shouldering his way into the bedroom, Tony turned a glance at him. ”You'll see it tomorrow. Along with the rest of the tower.”

”I look forward to that. It's all very impressive.”

And he could hear that Loki actually, honestly meant that. He had said things like that earlier during the night, but Tony hadn't been sure it was serious then. Now he was. Which did strange things to Tony's heart. 

He had been left to take care of himself, all on his own in a strange land, and he had been forced to work hard, use every scrap of cunning and wit he had. When he had done it, clawed his way up from having nothing but the clothes on his back to building a fortune and fame, he had tried telling himself he did it to get a new life, settle down in his native Realm. Even then he had known that was only part of the truth, if he was honest.

It had also been for Loki. There was nothing he did that wasn't in part to impress him, to show him what Tony had learnt, what he could do. Tony wanted Loki to see what he had made for himself – see it, appreciate it, and admire it. Because Loki was the only one who could truly understand the value of what he had done – and Loki was the only one whose opinion Tony himself valued.

He wanted Loki to be proud.

Lost in thoughts, it wasn't until he returned from the bathroom and found Loki folding up his suit pants to hang them over the back of a chair that he considered the fact that he had led Loki straight to his own bedroom, and never thought that even a little strange. It was all natural to him, the way it had always been in a strange place – they would sleep close to each other, to keep safe. The tower wasn't a strange place to Tony anymore, but it was to Loki. Putting him in a guestroom had never even occured to him.

As he watched, smiling, Loki straightened up from his fussing with his clothes. Tony knew that suit wasn't real; he had felt the threads of magic woven into fabric when he had touched it. Loki could have dissolved it and made it new, or a different one, the next day. It was all habit, now, a long lifetime of being neat and tidy, and caring for the things that belonged to him.

Tony's smile slipped off his face slowly as he saw the long, lean lines in Loki's legs and back shift with the movement. Shoulder blades moving and muscles rippling when he raised his hands to brush his hair back out of his face. Loki had nothing on but a pair of simple, black boxer briefs, and the long limbs and pale skin suddenly on display in Tony's bedroom made something odd twist around in his gut.

He couldn't say why. They had seen each other half-dressed as well as naked countless times before, in the communal hot spring baths under the palace as well as washing themselves in cold streams when they went hunting. There had never been room for shyness. And he doubted it would be the fact that they were in the same bedroom that suddenly bothered him. They had shared everything from beds to blankets on the ground, first when Tony had been a boy scared of his nightmares, and then to keep them both warm and safe during the night in the forest.

He was being ridiculous, so Tony shook himself out of his thoughts, got his own clothes off quickly, tossing them aside much less neatly, and then crawled into bed. Most of the lights in the room were already turned off, so in the semi-darkness the glow from his chest was more noticeable than it was in brighter light. As he tugged the duvet over his legs and turned to fluff up his pillow, he felt Loki watching him. At last he swallowed, stilled, and looked up. 

The pale face seemed more drawn in the gathered shadows, lips pursed, a knot between his eyebrows, and eyes fastened on the pattern on Tony's chest, of course. Pain and guilt were as evident on his face as if they had been written there in bold, red letters.

”It doesn't hurt”, he heard himself saying, before he had thought about saying anything.

Loki flinched a little, tried to hide it behind a smooth face, but failed. One of his hands twitched in his lap where he was sitting with his legs folded like a tailor's under the duvet, and it looked like he wanted to reach out, touch, but didn't dare. If he was worried about the strange magic, or if he was afraid he would hurt Tony, was impossible to say. Perhaps it was both.

With a little sigh, Tony leaned over, wrapped his fingers around Loki's wrist and pulled his hand to his chest. When the long, tapered fingers were nearly on his skin, Loki abruptly resisted the movement. Not pulling back again, but stopping his hand dead in the air. His eyes were wide and bright with fear now.

Tony hushed him softly, even though he hadn't said a word. ”Trust me, it's fine.” He tugged a little on the stiff wrist again, and now Loki let him press his soft, smooth palm to the center of Tony's chest.

He gave a little hiss as he felt the chill emanating from the glowing, blue-white lines, but he didn't try to get away again. Instead he traced the outline of the circle with his thumb, blinking furiously, chasing away tears.

”I barely feel the cold anymore”, he said as he let Loki's hand go, watching as it kept stroking along the raised scars. ”And anyway, I wouldn't have my suit if not for this, so there's that.”

Clearer, more curious green eyes came up to meet his. ”This helped you make the suit?”

”Not just make it – fly it.” Tony smiled. ”And it powers the most impressive weaponry on it, as well. I'll show you tomorrow. Perhaps that will wipe that look off you face.”

Loki's eyes narrowed and his head tilted slightly to the side. ”What look?”

”Like I was dying.”

Silently Loki took his hand back, arranged the duvet around his legs and didn't look back as Tony slipped down on the mattress, stretching out on his back, settling in for the night. He was still sitting there toying with the sheet on the duvet when Tony reached for the light switch, his own duvet over his chest to smother the glow.

”Come on. Get some rest.”

He heard a sigh in the darkness. Then Loki shifted around and stretched out beside him. For a little while he remained unmoving, but then a long arm came to curl around Tony's waist, pulling him closer, his side soon flush against Loki's chest. He seemed content to stay like that, and Tony found that he very much was too.

After another silence, his soft voice almost whispered in the dark room. ”I did miss you, Anthony.”

Even though Loki couldn't see it, Tony smiled while his hand moved to hold on to Loki's forearm, resting across his middle. ”Good.” His tone was decidedly smug, but he couldn't be bothered.

A barely there laugh was the last thing he heard from Loki. Moments later, they were both sleeping deeper and more peacefully than they had in a year's time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, my five week vacation ends tomorrow. :/ I will still be working on this story - no way is it leaving me alone at this point! - but the updates probably won't be quite this frequent... Hope you'll be sticking with me anyway!


	10. Chapter 10

It took Loki only a little while of wide-eyed admiration of the sparkling red-and-gold suit of armour before he demanded Tony explain how it was put together, how it worked, what let him fly in it.

That wasn't an easy task.

Loki could understand that the power source for the suit was the spell bound in Tony's chest, but the process of turning that trapped magic into energy was complex. It involved advanced circuitry made out of materials Tony had been forced to hunt down all over Midgard. It involved wildly complicated programming, and the computer system helping him guide the magic through the suit was partially magic as well, making it able to, in a way, read his mind.

The armour had more common forms of weaponry, lika a laser and a collection of small missiles hidden in a shoulder, but the Arch Seal was what powered the thrusters on his hands and feet, letting him fly while also being a weapon in themselves, as well as a beam of even more focused power that he could fire right out of his chest. It all came from a plate of metal attached to the seal, which in a way worked like a magic magnet, allowing Tony to transfer the energy out of his body, into the suit.

”This is... incredible.” Loki ran a hand along the inside of an opened arm of the armour, which let him see the circuits and joints. Then he reached the repulsor in the palm of the gauntlet, and his hand hesitated. ”Anthony? Is that...?”

Tony chuckled, picked the thing up and held it closer for Loki to see that the insulation built into the fitting of the repulsor was indeed made out of dragon hide. ”The magic wouldn't focus in the right direction at first”, he explained. ”The frostbites on my palms after the first test flight weren't pretty. My shoes sort of saved my feet.” He huffed at the memory. ”In the end I had to cut up that scrap of dragon hide you gave me and work that in around the exit points for the magic, so I could use it without burning my hands and feet off with the cold.”

Loki marveled at the ingenuity of the armour and its construction for a while longer, before Tony dragged him away to look closer at the information he had gathered on Thor. Not that he didn't love the sight of Loki losing himself in Tony's wondrous creation, but they _were_ short on time.

On the other hand Loki regarded the shining holographic screens as another kind of magic, almost as impressed by Tony's ability to manipulate these visual displays a by the way he could manipulate magic.

But then they were forced to focus on the subject at hand, even though it was far less satisfying.

Loki eyed the information Tony had referenced the night before, and then frowned at the walls of text. ”Are you certain you believe this information you have uncovered is the truth?”

”No”, Tony answered simply, and then scoffed at the surprised look this earned him. ”Did you think I'd grown soft here among my own kind, in my old age?”

Loki gave an amused snort. ”Old age... You are naught but a precocious child, Anthony.”

Tony threw him a mock scowl, his hand resting on his chest as if soothing the pain from a vicious blow. ”First of all, ouch, second of all, how dare you, and third, to properly answer your question, no, I'm not sure I believe it. It could be false. It could be a trap, even though I'm not sure Thor would have told them anything about you or me having a connection to him. If he knows I'm on Earth in the first place. It could even be a mistake. And the helicarrier is their most heavily weaponized base of operations as far as I can tell. Fighting our way in there to find Thor and free him, blindly, could turn ugly.”

Nodding, his eyes wandering over the glowing, blue screens again, Loki thoughtfully gnawed on his lip. ”What do you suggest?”

”That we leave Thor where he is, for now, and find out in a safer way if there is any accuracy to all this.”

”And that would be what, exactly?” He didn't sound pleased by the idea.

Instead of answering him verbally, Tony tapped the screen in front of him twice, then swiped the result over to the one in front of Loki, filling it with an image of Mjölner, resting on a pile of rock, surrounded by what precious little information SHIELD had on the Hammer so far – which was basically nothing more than that it gave off some radiation they had yet to identify, and that it caused their equipment to malfunction every time there was a thunderstorm nearby. 

For a moment Loki eyed the screen, then he turned to Tony with an eyebrow raised. 

”If it's where they claim it is, and if their latest reports are accurate, the Hammer is more or less in the middle of nowhere, and lately they have been pulling most of their people out of the compund, since they are making no kind of progress.” Scratching his fingers through his goatee, Tony narrowed his eyes in thought. ”I also suspect they are moving their researchers somwehere else, for some other purpose, but I've yet to uncover what it is. They seem to be hiding it even deeper than this. But that doesn't matter at the moment. What matters is that there are just a handful of agents and scientists watching over this, in a large compound in the middle of the desert.”

It didn't take more than a moment for Loki to grasp his meaning. ”If the information is correct when we get there, we can trust what we find about Thor.”

”That was my thought, yes. Of course, there are still no guarantees, but...”

Loki nodded. ”But it's better than going in completely blind.”

He said nothing about it, not yet, but there was another reason Tony very much wanted to see Mjölner again. There was no use telling Loki, in case it would all turn out to be a false hope. It was an insane idea, after all.

A long silence fell, and the longer it lasted the deeper the line between Loki's eyebrows became. Until Tony had to ask.

”What are you thinking?”

Those green eyes were unusually dark when they turned to him. ”Do you believe they would do him harm?”

Tony sighed. He should have expected that one. ”I don't think it's a decision they would make easily.”

”But you believe they could make it.” Now it was no longer a question.

”If they felt that they had to, yes, I believe that is something they would be capable of.” He nodded his head to the side, indicating the screens without taking his eyes off Loki. ”But if they had, I'm sure I would have seen signs of it here. And there is nothing to indicate it.”

Loki was still looking tense and unhappy.

”Would it make you feel better if we got moving?”

”Worth a try.”

Tony quirked a smile. ”Then we should do that.” He swiped the screens away entirely and walked over to the armour where it was waiting patiently for him. ”If we stay out of sight it shouldn't come to a fight, but I think I had better wear this so I don't get riddled with bullets in case we are spotted.” Pursing his lips in consideration, he tapped a finger against the bright red breast plate. ”It's not exactly subtle, though... I never intended it for stealth. They will recognize me in an instant if they see this.”

”How about this, then?” Suddenly Loki was close, pressed up right by his back, placing a palm beside his finger on the metal. From there, darker colours spread over the polished surface, like ink in water. In a few heartbeat's time, the armour was black, with an almost matte finish, the bright gold replaced with a very dark, deep red.

”Oh”, Tony breathed, taking in the new design. ”Yes, I believe that is... perfect.” He thought of something else then, and glanced over his shoulder at the dark gray three-piece suit Loki was wearing again today. ”Well, now you're the one underdressed.”

Arching an eyebrow, Loki gave him a skeptical look. ”Is that so?”

”Absolutely.” He turned around in the space between Loki's chest and the armour's, which left him just enough room for the movement, and placed a hand on Loki's sternum, right over his emerald green tie. Searching for a fitting image in his mind, feeling the threads of the magical fabric under his fingertips, he bit his lip and narrowed his eyes. ”I think this should do the trick.”

The outfit taking shape under his hand was very similar to the softer kind of leather armour Loki had usually worn around the palace, but Tony made the green a deeper shade, the leather more black than brown, and added vambraces and a shoulder piece in decorated metal, the usual semi-circle of the same material on his chest.

As he watched the transformation, Loki's face slowly split into a wide, pleased grin. ”Yes, I do believe this is a fine match for your armour.”

When his now joyfully sparkling green eyes came back up to Tony's face, it felt like a light spreading through what had just been a dark hollow in his heart. Not thinking about anything but how pleased the sight of Loki being pleased made him, he let both his hands slide up until they could curl around the leather edges at the front of Loki's armour. With that grip for balance he raised himself up on his toes, and placed a kiss at the corner of Loki's mouth. The movement was almost exactly the same as the one he had made under the Sapling, but without the frustration and fear and anger. Now his lips landed there softly, slowly, sweetly, let him feel the smooth skin, without a hint of stubble, and the satiny texture of his thin lips, before he just as slowly drew back and lowered his heels down onto the floor.

Just like that time, the kiss seemed to have hit Loki like a blow, but less devastatingly so now. He stared at Tony for a moment before his breathing started back up with an audible inhale, flexing his chest convulsively under the leather.

”Anthony?” His name was all gravel, where it usually was velvet. ”Why...?” Loki's usual eloquence had apparently failed him.

Tony made himself give him a twist of a smile. ”For luck.” Then he pulled his hands back and turned to his own armour again. ”It's time to go.”

* * *

They appeared out of nowhere in the gathering darkness not far from the compund surrounding the spot where they hoped Mjölner was resting. Loki could keep them hidden from any guard, but a cover of darkness was always a good thing even so. You never knew what might go wrong.

A tall metal fence with a twisted, thorny crown of barbed wire did its best to keep them out. But Anthony just scoffed, the sound faintly distorted inside the helmet of his armour, and placed a hand on the metal threads. A faint but slow and lasting release of the icy magic from his gauntlet turned it brittle as dry grass, and then a light twist of his wrist was all it took to tear out a hole large enough to let them both slip through.

Side by side, so close their arms brushed with nearly every step, they made their way into the building. It was mostly dark, and had an abandoned feel to it. Only a handful of guards circled the place, and it was too large for them to cover the entire perimeter at once. Getting inside was no trouble at all, and Anthony's data, flashing before him inside the visor of his helmet, showed them where they should go next. He had demonstrated to Loki how it worked earlier that day, and he was still in awe of the man's genius.

He had married magic he should never have had, to the intriguing technology of his native realm, and the result was a thing of pure beauty the likes of which Loki could never have imagined.

It wasn't long until they reached the central chamber where Mjölner resided on what looked like a tiny pillar of packed together earth and rock, the ceiling of the room far above them, the soaring walls white, a wooden floor laid out around the Hammer. Right inside the doorway they stopped, Loki's hand curling around Anthony's armoured arm.

”There it is”, he whispered. ”We have seen enough. We should leave.”

”Not yet”, Anthony objected, pulling his arm free and walking closer, forcing Loki to follow closely behind to keep him hidden. ”Maybe it's just a decoy. I need to see it up close.”

Loki didn't like this, at all, but he quietly followed along, standing watch over Anthony as he sank down on one knee by the Hammer, retracting a gauntlet to place his bare hand on the heavy piece of uru. And then held it still there, for what felt like an eternity.

”Is it the real Hammer?” Loki hissed the question out.

Apparently, the sudden sound was still enough to break Anthony's concentration in whatever he was doing, because as soon as he had spoken a bright little spark of lightning reached out from a corner of the Hammer's head and licked at his fingers.

”Shit!” The word was too loud, startled out of Anthony by the sting.

A surge of electric energy made the barrier hiding them from sight flicker and vanish. With a gasp, Loki cast around to see if anyone had spotted them, already summoning the energy to hide them again.

”Anthony!” He kept this whisper even softer, but sharp as the lash of a whip even so. ”What are you _doing_? We need to leave, now!”

Only a moment after the words had left his mouth, just as his barrier of deflective light was coming back up around them, something hit the back of Anthony's shoulder with a charp, metallic noise, and bounced off the metal.

Still not taking his hand off the Hammer, Anthony glanced around. ”Was that a fucking _arrow_?”

”I believe so.”

”Well, damn, now I miss my bow...”, he muttered. ”Just keep them off for a moment longer, and we'll get out.”

”Why not now?” Loki was not amused. Dropping the shield that was useless to hide them now anyway, he stepped around Anthony to see behind them, where the attack had come from. Far above, on a runway just below the ceiling, he could see someone dressed in black moving into a corner, the curve of a very strange-looking bow in his hand, and he threw up another kind of barrier right as a second arrow reached them. It hit the shield just in front of Loki, shattering into smithereens uncomfortably close to his face. ”Answer me!” He growled. ”Why not now, damn it?”

”Only need a moment...” The muttering man sounded thoroughly distracted, and Loki gave up, instead keeping his attention on the man notching another arrow, and the sound of shouting and running feet approaching.

A third arrow struck the shield. This one turning into a brightly burning fiery explosion right behind Anthony's back, but on the edge of his peripheral vision Loki could see that he didn't even flinch, just kept still by Mjölner's side. Gritting his teeth, Loki strengthened the barrier further, hoping Anthony would soon be done. Very soon. A few moments ago would have been preferable, actually.

Right then, the man gave a little whoop of triumph, the sound so oddly metallic inside his helmet, and shot up from his position, stepping around the pillar on the ground to get right up close to Loki. Safer at the center point of the shield forming a slightly shimmering dome around them.

”Hold on to this!”

Something hard was shoved into his chest, and Loki's fumbling hand found some part of it that he could comfortably hold on to, without looking down or thinking too closely about it. His other hand was busy steadying the barrier, his eyes were taking in their surroundings, ready to shield them from any other attack as dark shapes of more men were visible in the doorway.

”All right, I've got this now!” Anthony spun around, arms raised, palms out. ”I'll cover you – just get us out of here!”

Loki didn't waste time with a reply, even a snappish one about how it was certainly not for a lack of him asking that they had been delayed. He simply pulled back the barrier he had kept up around them, trusting that Anthony could keep him safe, and closed his eyes to focus, even as he heard the first bullet ricocheting off Anthony's armour.

The spell to move himself along the hidden paths was instantaneous, but with a passenger it took more concentration – although still no more than a few moments. His free hand came up to clasp the metal-covered shoulder in front of him, and then they were ripped through the fabric of the universe, landing smoothly in the penthouse suite in the tower. He had meant to return them to Anthony's workshop, where they had been standing when they departed the tower, but he had spent more time in this room and remebered it more clearly, so it was the place his magic chose.

Opening his eyes, Loki found himself staring right into the wild, jubilant grin nearly splitting Anthony's face in half, since the visor of his helmet had snapped back to reveal it. Loki, for his part, returned the expression with a thunderous scowl.

”What were you doing, Anthony?!” Now he was free to raise his voice to a near shout, driven by an anger tinged with worry. ”We were supposed to sneak in, and sneak back out. Not get ourselves nearly scewered on arrows!” He stepped closer, unthinkingly sweeping a hand out in a gesture to illustrate this very undesireable fate.

”Whoa!” Anthony nearly jumped back away from him at the movement, clumsy in the heavy suit, hands coming up in a sign of peace, but the grin barely faltered. ”Careful where you swing that, Loki.”

”What?” Still annoyed he finally looked down, and saw what Anthony had shoved at him to grasp before they fled.

The long, pale fingers of his left hand were curled around a rather short handle, wrapped in leather and bands of metal alternating in stripes, palm resting comfortably against it, effortlessly balancing the heavy, square head of forged uru on the end of it. So disproportionately large for the length of the handle.

He felt his jaw go slack, staring at it, his mind turning to a useless pile of mush in his skull at a sight he had never thought he would ever see. His own hand, the hand of an unworthy, jotun mage, once left to die on a frozen rock, now holding the handle of Mjölner.

The head of the Hammer shifted slightly in the air as he began to tremble.

”...What...?”, he repeated, voice weak and wavering with his profound disbelief, nearly breaking on the single word. Then his eyes flashed up to Anthony's, bright and golden brown, greeting him with the same triumph as he had seen a moment ago and not understood.

Now he did.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something short and sweet before the boys need to get their shit together and go back to work. (Which means I have more action to figure out... *dying whale noises*)

Loki took a couple of stumbling steps back away from Anthony, staring at the weapon in his hand as if it was about to bite him, or blow up in his face. Both were, in a way, possibilities after all. The arm holding the Hammer felt weak, his fingers almost going slack, and the thing tipped toward the floor, his fingers barely hanging on.

”Easy there, Loki.” He heard the noises of Anthony's armour opening up, and him sliding out to step down on the floor. ”Breathe. Focus. Dropping that on your toes would be the worst idea ever.”

He found himself barking out a laugh with a slightly hysterical edge to it, bending double at the waist. Carefully he allowed the Hammer to skink lower still, until he could place it on the floor with just a slight thunk of metal on solid wood, and let go. Then he straighetened and backed another couple of steps, stopping to tilt his head, hiding his face in his hands, trying to gather his breath and senses both.

”Loki?” Hands settled on his upper arms, the warm presence of Anthony coming closer. ”Talk to me? Are you all right?” He sounded increasingly worried. ”I thought... you'd like that. Did I mess up?”

And wasn't _that_ so typical of his Anthony? Worrying he had failed, been a disappointment, even when he had done something so impossible Loki's mind simply failed to grasp it.

In a swift movement he dropped his hands from his face, closed them around the sides of Anthony's head, and felt his lips slide back in a grin that felt victorious in a wild, feral way. ”That you can even ask something like that amazes me.” He saw the man's tense face relax into a soft smile. ”How did you do that?”

”You told me Odin had taken Thor's magic away. That was the bond tying him and Mjölner together. Without it, the mark on the Hammer was severely weakened. It was still a formidable spell, especially on that damn uru, but now it allowed me to at least alter a part of it.” He gave a onesided shrug, as if to say _it was nothing much, really_.

But Loki had more important things to ask than to bother correcting that blatant, although unspoken, lie. ”Then why give it to me? You held it in your hand, but you turned it over to _me_. Why?”

Anthony gave a snort. ”And that you can even ask something like that amazes _me_.” His thumbs rubbed against Loki's arms through green cloth and black leather. The smile faded a little. ”Of course I gave it to you. That was why I wanted to tinker with the spell to begin with, even back when I was just a kid. For you. To see you with it.”

Before he knew it, Loki's hold on his brown-haired head grew firmer and he had pulled it closer, tilting it back. He dropped his own head forward at a slight angle, locking their lips together as his arms wrapped around Anthony's body, almost crushing it to his chest. Not like the tentative brush of lips he had received earlier that day, but heated and with some force, driven by the irresistable urge to show his gratitude and awe and love in a real, tangible way. He did keep his tongue behind his teeth, but the pressure of the kiss was enough to part their lips slightly, turning it slicker and even more intense.

A soft whimper under his mouth suddenly snapped Loki out of the haze, made him aware of what he was doing, of the way hands were fisted in his hair. Perhaps to pull him away.

Abruptly, Loki jerked his head back, the sudden pull on his hair making his scalp flare in sharp pain, but he never realized that meant the hands hadn't been trying to tug him away, but holding him close. At least they still managed that, because the sting made Loki stop much closer than he had meant to.

”That one wasn't for luck”, Anthony breathed against his lips, eyes wide in an expression Loki couldn't read. Yet somehow he was quite certain it wasn't a positive feeling fueling it. ”Was it?”

”No, it wasn't”, he murmured, untangled his long arms from Anthony and took a careful step back, the hands now dropping from his hair. ”I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.”

”Why not?” The man's voice was oddly flat, as if he was forcing it more neutral than he wanted it to be.

”It isn't what you want from me.”

”How would you know?”

Loki made himself study his face closer then. There were some lines of tension around his mouth, half hidden in his neat beard, but also a faint hint of creases by his warm, brown eyes, as if he was amused, about to smile.

But instead of a smile, there came more words: ”And how would I know? I've never had something like that. From anyone.”

Loki blinked. ”How would...? Anthony?” He blinked again, a few rapid flutters of his eyelashes. ”Never?”

Anthony threw him a sharp, pointed look that told him he had already heard the answer to that, before turning and walking away across the room toward the sofa, lowered into a sunken section of the wooden floor.

”Why?” Loki found nothing else to say. Anthony was a beautiful young man, he was talented and brilliant and charming. Why would he have had to go to bed alone his whole life?

With a thump the once-mortal sat down on the sofa, leaning forward to hide his face in his hands. And he didn't look up when he started speaking. ”Because it wasn't important.” A sigh slipped out between his fingers. ”It didn't matter.”

Feeling lost now, Loki stepped up and more gingerly sat down one a cushion over, giving Anthony some space. ”Why not?”

At last his hands dropped away, and intensely serious, dark eyes fixed on Loki's face. ”Everything I have ever done, I have done for you”, he said, tone grave. ”Either because you asked it of me, or because I wanted to make you proud. Or even just to make you smile. And _that_... Well, that would have just been for me. So it didn't matter. I preferred to spend my time with you.”

All Loki could do was stare, stunned. 

”I honestly didn't understand that was what I had been doing until... very recently”, Anthony continued. ”But yes, that's why.”

”Anthony...” He slid a little bit closer on the sofa, close enough to place a hand on the young man's cheek. ”I would never have asked you to give up something like that.”

”I know that”, he assured, turning his head to nuzzle into Loki's palm, not taking his eyes off Loki's face in the movement. ”It was my choice.”

”It was your choice to give me... everything?” 

Anthony's hand came up to settle over the back of his, pressing it closer as he turned his head a little bit more, placing a kiss on Loki's palm before he turned to face him again. Eyes bright, expression serious. ”Every single breath of every day since the moment you found me, Loki. And there isn't one of them I wish I had given to someone else.”

Overwhelmed, dumbfounded, Loki could only stare at Anthony's face as it slowly turned blurred and distorted while his eyes filled with tears that never fell.

For nearly two centuries he had thought of the once-mortal as _his Little Ant, his Anthony_ , and he had always been so thoroughly convinced that the child he had found was meant to be his. Anthony himself had made him see that they had been meant for each other. Not even once had it occurred to him that they might also be meant for each other in a more... intimate way.

Before, that had never been a possibility, even if it would have occurred to him. Anthony had been completely dependent on Loki for everything, and the only thinkable relationship between them had been one where Loki was caretaker, guardian, keeper, teacher, friend. Anything else would have been a blatant abuse of power and influence and Loki would never have done anything like that to his Anthony.

He had never held any doubts about his own love and affection for Anthony, and on that horrible, heartbreaking day under the Sapling, Anthony had told him he was loved in return. That had been enough – and far more than enough.

Now, Loki knew everything between them was different. He had left Anthony to fend for himself, and the man had done more than that - he had flourished. Even if Loki walked out of his life this moment and never returned – which was the last thing he wanted, even when a part of him still thought it would be the wisest thing – Anthony would have a splendid, brilliant future. Whatever Loki might offer him now, it would be something Anthony only had to accept if he wanted it. There was nothing more he needed from Loki to survive. So the only question was what Loki wanted to offer, and when he thought about the feeling of sleeping with Anthony's warm, solid body next to his, of soft, sweet lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, he didn't think that question would be too difficult to answer.

In truth, however, physical intimacy wasn't something Loki had made a priority in his life. Perhaps that was why he had never put any thought into what Anthony's love life might be like? Usually it never interested him much, and few enough were ever interested in him in return. Even though he was the younger prince of Asgard, he had also always been withdrawn, quiet, mage rather than warrior, and not what the aesir considered attractive, so not many had tried to win him.

But this was different. This was his Anthony. Should there ever be anything intimate between them, it wouldn't be some simple, meaningless act of friction and relief. No, that would be something much deeper.

And suddenly he wanted that, with a strange, burning urgency. Which he made himself swallow down, and keep in check. It had no place in this moment.

Instead, he let his hand against Anthony's cheek move so his fingertips could brush his temple, then into his thick, always so messy brown hair. ”And what if it wouldn't be _just_ for you?” He murmured the question, eyes locked on his.

A dark, straight eyebrow arched a little. ”You... Are you saying that you'd...? Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

Loki raised his chin and then lowered it in a single, simple nod.

”Oh.” A convulsive-looking swallow made his Adam's apple bob. And his face looked so completely blank that for a moment, Loki was worried he had thoroughly misread the situation, offered something that was never wanted. But then a corner of his lips quirked up in a faint smile. ”Maybe I'd still make you proud.”

And then Loki dared give him a little smirk in return. ”At the very least, you might make me smile.”

With a scoff, Anthony's arm shot out, straight and stiff, and shoved sharply at the front of his shoulder. But his eyes were glittering in a way that gave away the amusement under his feigned outrage. ”You are such an utter bastard when you want to be, you know that?”

”I do”, Loki agreed pleasantly.

Anthony mock-glared at him for another moment, then the previously shoving hand curled around Loki's shoulder, pulled him in closer, and Anthony tilted his own head forward so their foreheads could settle against each other. Both of them breathing the same air.

Loki felt the warm, faintly but pleasantly spicy scent of the man in front of him settle around him, and drew a long sigh, relaxing into the closeness. ”Pride and smiles aside”, he murmured, ”I will always love you, Anthony.”

The hand around his shoulder tightened its hold. ”And I you. Always.”

* * *

That night they crawled under the duvets on Tony's bed again, curling up close together. And even though he had spent the whole night before with Loki holding him, Tony felt that this was all different.

Loki's long, lean legs were tangled up with his now, their bodies as close as they could get, Tony's face by Loki's throat, his body surrounded by his smooth, strong arms. 

And there wasn't a time Tony could remember when being in Loki's arms wasn't home to him. When it wasn't his most fundamental idea of trust and safety and belonging. Nothing could harm him here. No-one would even get close enough to lay a finger on him. The comforting, steadying, protective cirlce of Loki's arms had warded off anything from monsters under the bed, to loneliness and self-doubt. It was his soft place to fall.

But this time it wasn't just safe, comfortable, familiar. There was something in the way Loki's face was buried in his hair, the way the pads of his long fingers kept caressing slow, gentle patterns along Tony's back, that felt almost... reverent.

He nuzzled his face in closer, letting a kiss brush over Loki's clavicle, and a sigh fanned hot and humid into the messy half-curls of his hair.

”Sleep, Anthony.” He felt the deep vibrations of the words all around him.

Smiling against pale, soft skin, Tony closed his eyes, and slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Who had their money on Tony being a 200 year old virgin? Time to cash in!


	12. Chapter 12

Tony was still nestled in the warm safety of Loki's arms when he woke up, even if he was turned the other way now. His back was to Loki's chest, their legs still tangled as the taller man behind him was curved around his spine, both arms wrapped around him, one cradling his ribs, the other slipped in under his head and neck to make an extra pillow. Both those long, slim, smooth hands were resting flat on his chest.

At first he thought that Loki was still asleep, breaths fanning slowly over his shoulder, but when he stirred slightly in the hold on him, Tony heard a soft hum. Then Loki's lips settled in the angle between his neck and shoulder, trailing a line of berely-there kisses up his neck to the sensitive spot right behind his ear.

”Good morning, Anthony”, Loki purred against the shell of it once he got that far.

Pulling a long, pleased sigh Tony let himself melt into Loki's embrace. ”I'd say.” His voice was still rough from sleep – and perhaps something more.

Loki nuzzled the hair behind ear, breath warm in the messy curls, and held on to him a little tighter. One of his hands settled right on Tony's sternum, the other lower, rubbing a slow, soothing circle over his solarplexus. They stayed like that then, just basking in the closeness and comfort.

After a while something felt a little bit uncomfortable, and it took him a while more to know what was wrong. It came on slowly, because Tony was so used to the chill he always carried in his chest. He had told Loki it didn't bother him, and that was true. It was such a part of himself that his body didn't register it anymore. But now, for the first time in a long time, the seal felt cold enough that his ribs ached a bit. Perhaps it was simply that the rest of him was so much warmer than usual?

Tony tilted his chin into his throat and glanced down at his own chest, curious but not yet truly worried, and then turned as stiff as if a poisonous viper had been coiled there to strike his heart.

The hand resting on his sternum was blue. A pale, cold shade, like moonlight on snow, the nails a much deeper, midnight hue. The colour was spreading up Loki's wrist even as Tony watched, and right where hand joined wrist, there were a few raised lines in a pattern of angles, like arrows pointing toward his fingers. It looked so impossibly alien against Tony's own skin, warmly golden behind it.

He tried to speak, but only managed a strangled noise, before he could choke out Loki's name, all the while feebly trying to squirm away. Even though he had nowhere to go – back away from the hand meant closer to Loki's chest. And his safe place didn't feel very safe right now, as cold was beginning to sting his chest.

”What?” Loki sounded pleasantly lazy still, with no idea yet that anything was wrong.

”Your hand!” Part of him wanted to scream, but it came out a hiss of a whisper, and then he started to struggle away from Loki in the opposite direction, pushing against the arms holding him. ”Let go!” He barked it out, startled.

For a moment Loki held on, as if by instinct, but when he felt Tony's struggling start to turn panicked he jerked his hands back and let go of him.

Scrambling to the other side of the bed, flipping around only when he was so close to the edge he nearly fell over it, Tony slapped his own palm to his chest, hissing at the heat of his body against the icy cold. Then he snapped his head up and looked at Loki across the bed. Loki, who was now sitting up too, duvet pooled around his hips, staring in mute, stunned horror at his still blue right hand, held up in front of him. A tiny, shrill whimper escaped Loki's throat, and Tony could see him tremble and shiver.

Then, slowly, the colour started to fade into Loki's usual pale skintone. It had nearly reached his elbow, but now it changed direction and slipped back down to his wrist, hand, and fingers. Only when his hand was completely back to normal did Loki clench it into a fist, pressed it to his abdomen and curled in on himself around it, breathing hard and still shaking.

Tony realized only then that he was shaking too, his heart beating wildly against his ribs, but he was beginning to calm down again. He knew now what had happened. The shock and panic had made him forget, but now he knew. And knew that he had made a mistake by reacting the way he had.

”Loki?” There came no reaction from the hunched over figure across the bed. ”I'm all right. You didn't hurt me. I just... I wasn't prepared.”

”You knew what I am”, Loki muttered, voice gravelly, tone flat.

”Yes, but...” He swallowed. ”The humans say that 'seeing is believing', and I suppose knowing and believing aren't quite the same.”

Slowly Loki straightened a little, but his wide shoulders remained curled in, his arms across his middle, head low so he was looking at Tony through his long, black lashes. ”Apparently not”, he said after a moment. Then he turned away, tossed the duvet aside, and slipped his feet down on the floor, getting up and walking out of the room with rapid, hard steps. Almost at the door he shimmered into the dark armour Tony had made for him the day before, as if he needed something safe to hide in.

”Loki!”

His call didn't even slow the other down, and a moment later he was out of sight completely.

Tony slumped on the bed, staring at his knees where they were pressed into the mattress and the rumpled sheet. He made in a noisy huff of a breath and then tilted to the side, falling over on his own pushed aside duvet, hiding his face in it while he tried to calm down. There was no use going after Loki until he'd come to his senses completely.

Of course Loki was right; he had known what Loki was. He had. And knowing hadn't made him love Loki any less. Still didn't. 

But a year was simply not enough time to shake off two centuries of being told about the frost giants as vicious, bloodthirsty monsters. Not altogether. And a few moments wasn't enough time to get over the shock of seeing the hand that had held and comforted him all his life suddenly turn blue, marked, and alien. The hand of an enemy. Even when his heart knew that this was still his Loki, and not a threat. 

At last Tony sat up, rolled out of bed, pulled on a pair of worn-soft jeans and a tank top, and walked out of the bedroom. He had a feeling he knew where he would find Loki, and when he reached the room on the other end of the suite, which served as a combined library and study, there Loki was, leaning back in an armchair in the far corner. He clutched the book in his hands a bit too hard, showing only his profile to the door, and said nothing when Tony stopped there. Even though he must have heard him arrive.

”Loki?”

Even from this distance Tony could see the muscles in Loki's jaw flex under the pale skin. He still said nothing.

”I'm sorry.”

That made Loki's eyes snap his way, bright green with what looked like anger, and Tony's gut clenched with worry. ”Whatever for?” His tone was cuttingly sharp.

Tony blinked. He hadn't expected that. ”For... the way I behaved just now. I shouldn't have -”

”Shouldn't have protected yourself from danger and harm?”

”That's not what I wanted to say!”

Loki shook his head and returned to his book, trying to look casually relaxed while obviously being anything but. ”I knew staying was a mistake, and I told you as much.” Without looking back, he threw up a hand when he heard Tony suck in a breath for a protest. ”No, I'm not leaving. But I will not risk something like that happening again either. Leave me be.”

That was the last thing Tony wanted to do, but he knew that if he pushed, if he tried to get close right now, Loki might go back on his word and leave anyway, out of fear of hurting him. He nodded, even though Loki probably couldn't see it, and left the doorway.

For a moment he stood outside the room, not sure of where to go. He knew he couldn't pester Loki into speaking to him, but he didn't want to go too far away either. So in the end he chose not to go to his workshop, and instead stayed sprawled out on his couch with one of his light pads, digging deeper into the files stolen from SHIELD.

He hadn't said much about it, but the fact that all the more experienced researchers were being pulled from the compound around Mjölner still bothered him. The Hammer was an important find to them, and even if their success trying to make sense of it had been slim, Tony didn't think they would up and leave unless something even more important was at stake. He had a feeling finding it would be important to them, as well.

He wasn't wrong.

* * *

For a long time after Anthony had left, Loki kept staring at the same page of the random book he had pulled from a shelf, never reading a single word of it.

He wished he had been strong enough to leave, no matter what he had promised Anthony. He shouldn't be here. This shouldn't have been allowed to happen. If he had only paid more attention, it wouldn't have. Instead he had settled his hand on the jotun magic trapped in Anthony's chest, and never thought twice about it, so lost in his own bliss. After placing his hands on the Casket had revealed his nature he should have known better. Locked under Anthony's skin and seal, it had taken a while longer for the icy spell there to seep into his true skin, lure it out, but he should have known it would happen.

What if he had put his head on Anthony's chest? What if he had seen Loki's face? His true one. The one not even Loki himself knew what it looked like. He could imagine well enough, though – all blue and marks and soulless, red eyes – and it made him feel sick. At least that hadn't happened, but he couldn't afford to be this careless.

Loki had allowed himself to get lost in the warm, intimate sensation of resting so close to someone he loved, who loved him in return. For a brief time, he had let himself believe that yes, this was truly meant for him. All of this amazing, glorious person wrapped up in his arms. And now the memory of those few hours of happiness would be all he had.

Was it a blessing, to have known it, or was it a curse that he now had to live with the knowledge of what he'd never have?

No, Loki made the conscious decision to count it as a blessing. It was something to hold on to, something to warm his frozen heart. That had to be better than never tasting it at all.

He let the book drop into his lap now, and turned his head to stare out at a gray, overcast sky, trying to think of nothing at all. It had never been something he was particularly skilled at, unfortunately.

”Loki?”

He startled slightly at Anthony's voice, soft though it was, and warily glanced across the room, not even bothering pretending to still be reading. ”Yes?”

”I'm sorry, I know you want to be left alone, but I... found something.” He sounded tense and wary himself.

Loki sat up straight in the chair, book lowered into his lap. ”Has something happened to Thor?”

Anthony immediately shook his head. ”No. But this is something much more serious, I believe.”

”What is it?”

”Well, it's... this.” Then he made a twisting motion with his spread fingers, similar to the one Loki himself made when summoning something from his private dimensional pocket, and a fairly small cube, glowing a bright blue, appeared there. Balancing on the tips of his fingers. ”Look familiar?”

For a while Loki could just stare, disbelief and shock mingling in his chest, filling it, not letting him pull a proper breath. More serious than an imprisoned Thor, indeed. ”It can't be.” He shoved the book aside, didn't care about the thump when it fell to the floor, and shot up to his feet to walk over to Anthony, his own issues now forgotten. ”It's impossible. The humans can't have the Tesseract in their hands.”

”Apparently no-one told them, because they do anyway.”

Loki's eyes reluctantly left the blue cube, to give Anthony a worried look under furrowed brows.

”What are they doing with it?”

Anthony's eyes turned dark. ”Brace yourself”, he said as he flicked the replica of the Cube away and walked out into the livingroom, waving Loki along. ”You're not going to like this.”

That was an understatement.

They were using the Cube to make weapons. Or trying to. They were as of yet not completely successful, fortunately. That meant there was still some time left for them to get the Tesseract away from the mortals, but not much of it. Anthony had been right; these humans were curious, determined, innovative beyond belief. As long as they had the Cube, they wouldn't stop. They needed to take it away from them.

When he made this statement, it turned out Anthony was already several steps ahead of him, immediately pulling out a holographic blueprint of the entire base where the Tesseract was kept and experimented on. He tapped a finger in a certain spot and made it glow red – it was where the Cube was stored, according to the data he had found. And it was a good thing he knew, because the building was huge.

”The bad news”, Anthony muttered, ”is that this chamber is under ground. Can we still travel in there?”

Loki slowly shook his head, considering the size of the room. ”No. But not because it's under ground. I could travel into the fiery heart of this Realm if I wished. But an artefact like the Cube creates disturbances, this one even more than others, if what I have learned about it is true. We would need to use stealth to get in again.”

The once-mortal bit his lip, still studying the display. ”Then how do we get back out?”

”If we are lucky, I can use the Cube. If not, I will need some time to harness its power, and I doubt the people in that building will let me have that time.”

”Then we might as well assume we won't be lucky. So, again, how do we get out?”

Loki shot him a pointed look under a raised eyebrow and then glanced across the room to the spot on the floor where Mjölner was still resting since the night before.

Anthony chuckled. ”Well I guess that's settled then.”

They made more plans, as much as they could, knowing full well that things would most likely not go according to any plan even so. And neither of them mentioned the way their day had started, at least not until they were done planning.

”Loki?” Anthony's voice was uncharacteristically hesitant.

”Hmm?” Loki didn't look up from the blueprints.

”Promise me...” He could hear Anthony swallow. ”Promise that you won't do anything reckless.”

Loki straightened and studied the concerned frown on the man's face, brown eyes darkened with worry. ”Like what?”

”It's just... This place won't be empty. Not like where we found Mjölner. There will be scientists working around this thing, there will be agents, guards, weapons. And I know you're... upset.” He made a small wince, obviously not pleased about the choice of word, and Loki couldn't claim to be either. ”About this morning. And I don't want you to risk yourself because of that. Or take it out on those people. Let's try to get this done as quickly and cleanly as possible, yes?”

Loki eyed him in silence before he gave a slight nod. ”I will _behave_ ”, he muttered. ”Now. Are we ready to leave?”

They were. Anthony let his armour swallow his body back up in its protective embrace, while Loki once more picked up the Hammer, still incredulous that he was able to, and stored it away in his dimensional pocket where he could easily reach it when needed. Then Loki stepped up to Anthony's metal-covered side, placed a hand on his shoulder, wove threads of invisibility around them, and furned his full focus on the point in space where they needed to go, as close to the Cube's location as he was able.

The first part of their plan went as smoothly as could be expected. A few heavily armed guards failed to see them arrive and make their way to the underground chamber. Loki made sure to silence their movements as well as hide them from sight; Anthony couldn't sneak around very well in his metal suit, his steps were too heavy even though he moved with impressive ease and agility in the thing.

Stepping into the chamber where the Tesseract meant being surrounded by its intoxicating, tingling, charged force field. Loki knew at once he wouldn't be able to travel out of there by using it. This would take some time to get used to, learn to harness and handle. And there were a group of mortals surrounding the Cube who would never allow him that time. Mortals Anthony wouldn't want him to harm if it was not necessary.

They would need to be fast.

Loki led their way over to the strange contraption where the Cube was stored, glanced at Anthony to see if he was prepared, and got a quick nod from the head hidden inside the helmet. They were ready.

He reached out, settled his hand around the glowing artefact, and instantly lost his grip on his concealment spell. As he had suspected he would. The rush of power sweeping cold and hot and quicksilver through him was too much to let him keep his focus. His magic would be mostly useless until he had this sensation in check, not only his ability to travel. With a hiss almost turning to a moan Loki as quickly as possible shifted the Cube to his hidden pocket, letting it settle neatly right next to Mjölner, and turned to face anyone wishing to keep them from leaving.

Anthony had stepped up to protect his back while he was busy with the Tesseract, and he seemed able to keep the little group of researchers and scientists in their white robes away with ease. Unlike the guards they had seen before, these people were unarmed, and they all backed up, hands in the air, eyeing Anthony's blue-glowing palms with no small amount of fear.

Just when Loki began to believe that getting back out would be more simple than he had expected, there came a sharp hiss and the metallic twang of an arrow ricocheting off Anthony's armour. In an instant, all of Loki's protective rage flared up in his heart like wildfire. His eyes shot up and found the archer's perch, high up under the far-away ceiling of the chamber, just as it had been where they found Mjölner. It had to be the same man, once more daring to attempt to harm his Anthony. And with a bow, at that. The bow and arrow was Anthony's own weapon, not to be used against him.

Across the distance Loki could make out the man's face this time; almost boyish features under short, sandy hair, sharp eyes fixed on their every movement. As he watched the man nocked a second arrow, and Loki felt a snarl tug at his upper lip.

When the arrow flew Loki was already moving, shoving Anthony out of the way, eyes on the projectile. He barely heard the surprised exclamation from the man as Loki's hand moved to snatch the arrow out of the air. The rage was still burning in his heart as he let the movement carry him around in a spinning turn, arm already poised to throw the arrow back at the archer. But in the last instant, before he took aim and let go, he remembered Anthony asking him not to take what he was feeling out on these mortals. Useless sentiment, perhaps, but Loki had still said that he would behave. 

An arrow was not made to be thrown, unlike the daggers he was used to, but his aim was still a thing to fear. So when Loki's strong, sure arm flicked the arrow back across the chamber it could have struck the archer in his throat, as Loki would have wished, but instead he saw it pierce the front of the man's right shoulder. He wouldn't be firing any more arrows today.

A metal gauntlet closed around his upper arm. ”Let's get out!”

Loki tore his eyes from the archer, who had dropped his bow and was no longer a threat, and nodded at Anthony. He reached into the little sliver of space that was only his, and summoned Mjölner back to his hand. Without his magic, he would need the weapon even more than he had thought.

Somewhere in the building, a shrill alarm began to shriek out a warning. Loki wouldn't be surprised if it was the archer who had alerted someone to their presence. But it made no difference. They couldn't be stopped.

The first locked door they reached was knocked down with a single blow from the Hammer, and Loki couldn't hold back a delighted peal of laughter as he quickly moved on to the next one, and then a third, bringing them into a room with a winding staircase. Yes, he could get used to this.

He heard Anthony chuckle as well. ”Good to hear you're enjoying yourself”, he said, at the same time reaching out to wrap his arms around Loki's middle. ”Hold on!”

Before he had a chance to ask why, they were already shooting through the air, spiraling up along the stairs, flashing by above the heads of a few confused guards who were the first to arrive in an attempt to apprehend them. The speed was exhilirating, making Loki's stomach clench with exitement as he held on to Anthony's armoured shoulders with one arm, Mjölner securely in his other hand. Oh, he was definitely enjoying himself.

They touched down by an elevator that seemed to be the only way up from this point. And here, beating down the door wouldn't help them.

”I'll deal with this one.”, Anthony muttered, already making a gauntlet retract, leaving his hand bare to settle his fingertips on what had to be some kind of electronic lock by the elvator doors.

Loki could hear shouts and approaching footsteps, but the guards hadn't even come around the corner before a triumphant little ”ha!” came from Anthony, and the metal doors were sliding open to let them in. Just as they were closing again the first armed man, dressed all in black, came into view. He raised a gun, firing, uselessly hitting the elevator door. 

There was just time for Anthony to give him a cheerfully teasing little wave before the doors closed and they were racing up through the building.

Grinning to himself Loki still did his best to use these precious few seconds to reach for his scattered magic. The threads resisted him, but he managed to get them somewhat under control again. The power of the Tesseract was settling along his bones and nerves, slowly becoming part of him. More complex spells were beyond him, the feeling too overwhelming, but a concealment spell was one of the oldest ones he knew, and with some effort it at last obeyed him.

He put a hand on Anthony's shoulder again, once more tugging him close, hiding them both. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the man's head move quickly and curiously.

”The threads feel different”, he said. ”They still look like yours, but they feel... almost liquid.”

”Yes”, Loki muttered through clenched teeth. ”And they threaten to slip through my fingers every moment. Now be silent, and fast.”

Anthony nodded, and just then the elevator came to a halt, doors opening to let them out.

More armed men in black were already positioned to take aim at them the moment they stepped out, but of course, to them the elevator seemed empty. They couldn't see or hear the two men slipping out of it, make their way out behind their backs, past more men joining the others, until they were outside in the gathering darkness of the night. Every guard and agent they saw was rushing into the building they had just left, so finding a deserted spot in a dark corner where Loki could drop the concealment spell was not as difficult as it should have been.

He was panting from the effort when he let the resisting, slippery threads of magic fall away, and had to support himself heavily on Anthony's shoulder. Just barely had the energy to store Mjölner away once more.

”You will have to fly us away from here, Anthony”, he murmured, close enough to the man's head that he would surely hear the soft words. Wishing there hadn't been a helmet between them, that he could have been allowed to brush his lips against the soft skin over the delicate shell of his ear. Just as he had that morning. Before everything had gone wrong. ”Somewhere we can hide until I can bring us home.”

”I can do that”, Anthony assured him. ”Try to hold on.”

Arms made strong by the metal armour closed around his back again, pulled him to the hard chest plate, and Loki barely had time to secure his own arms around the black metal shoulders in turn before they shot into the air. Their flight was nearly silent, and Loki thought they had left unnoticed, even though it was difficult to tell when wind rippled his hair in front of his eyes and the world spun. But he let himself feel victorious as Anthony was flying them and two of the most powerful artefacts in the universe to safety, turning them in a lazy spiral toward the stars.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back in my comfort zone, and that means the boys get to make up for their messed up morning.

”We need to talk.”

They had landed in a hollow among dark, craggy cliffs, actually not too far from the base they had just escaped, but partially hidden under some overhanging rocks, protecting them in case the search for them would turn airborne. Tony had stepped out of the armour. Under it he was wearing the soft, flexible undersuit he'd made for that specific purpose, but he was still warm and sweaty after the excertion of getting in and out of SHIELD's massive facility.

Loki, sitting with his back to the cliff, one leg folded almost to his chest and the other stretched out in front of him, both hands in his lap, gave him a long-suffering look. ”We do not.”

”Oh, we definitely do.” Tony stepped over and sat down right next to him, crossing his legs at the ankles. It was an old, familiar position. They had sat many times like this under trees and similar rocky outcrops, seeking shelter from wind and rain and cold. ”About this morning.”

With an exasperated groan, Loki scrubbed a hand over his face. ”Anthony, leave it be.”

”That's not an option”, he stated with finality, before softening his tone. ”I'm sorry I reacted like that, and I feel really bad about it. It just surprised me, you know?”

Loki's eyes narrowed. ”You are blaming yourself for being afraid of a monster? Why?”

Tony sighed, dropped his head in his hands and scratched his fingers through his sweat-damp hair, before he turned to meet Loki's dark, wary eyes again. ”You keep calling yourself that. But do you know what I remember you telling me about monsters, back when I was a kid?”

All that happened on Loki's face was that his brows furrowed a bit more.

”You taught me that monsters were makebelief.”

That made Loki blink, his head twitching back a little in surprise. ”But you saw... You _know_...” His words trailed off.

”I'm not trying to say that you're not a frost giant. That's not the part that's makebelief.” Tony slowly reached out and slipped his hand into Loki's, braiding their fingers together, happy that Loki didn't try to flinch away. ”The part where you think that makes you a monster is, though.”

Slowly shaking his head, Loki turned away. But he let his hand stay in Tony's at least.

”Because I also remember you teaching me that what people in Asgard said about midgardians was all wrong”, Tony continued. ”They said we were small and weak, helpless and feeble, stupid and primitive. But you always told me not to listen, because they didn't find Midgard interesting, so why would they bother finding out the truth?” He held on tighter to Loki's hand. ”And if that's true, why would they bother teaching the truth about a people they were so recently at war with? An old enemy?”

He could tell by the view of Loki's profile that he was wearing a deep frown now.

”That is different”, Loki muttered at last, sounding almost sullen.

”It is”, Tony agreed. ”It's very different, because you were always honest with me. You told me what I am, where I came from, and what that meant - and didn't mean. No-one gave you that.” Pulling Loki's hand into his lap, clasping it between both of his, he took a deep breath and carried on. ”It's not different because what they told us about jotuns is somehow more true than what they told us about midgardians. Some of it probably is true, but we know they only got scraps of it right for my people. Why should it be different for yours? Where they probably even _intended_ to get it wrong in the first place?”

For a while they were both silent, thoughtful and still.

Then Loki sighed. ”I could still harm you.”

”Of course you could. You could kill me right now, in a heartbeat, no matter the colour of your skin. And there will probably be days when you do me harm. Just as I will do you harm. But that has nothing to do with the blood in our veins, where we were born, or anything like that. It's because we chose to be part of each other's lives.” Smiling, Tony lifted Loki's hand to his lips to place a soft kiss on the back of it. ”I love you. That means you are able to hurt me in ways no-one else can. And the same is true the other way around. That's true for everyone. And at any time we can decide that's not worth the risk and walk away. But to me you will always be worth that. Love isn't just the pretty things, and I can deal with that.” He hesitated there. ”Can you?”

At last, Loki turned his head around to give him a long look. His face was so blank and passive that Tony started worrying about what his answer would be. Loki had said he would always love him, but perhaps that meant nothing when it got down to the dirt of reality? But then Loki pulled his hand free, draped his arm around Tony's shoulders instead, and pulled him in snug by his side, so close he almost toppled into his lap, and kissed the top of his head. Just like he always had when Tony was a boy.

”I can”, he murmured into his hair. ”You were always honest with me, as well. As long as you spare me the pretty lies, I can handle the ugly truths.”

Tony burrowed in under his arm with a happy sigh. ”That sounds good to me.”

After they had been sitting like that for a while, calming down, relaxing into each other, Tony heard the distinctive noise of a helicopter in the not-so-far distance, and decided to change topic.

”So, how are you and the Cube getting along?”

Chuckling, Loki pulled him a little bit closer to his side still. ”Surprisingly well. Actually, I believe it... likes me.”

”'Course it does”, Tony said with a grin, and then turned to throw an arm across Loki's chest, and a leg across his thighs, snuggling if possible even closer into his side, fairly uncomfortable though it was when they were propped up against a rock wall. ”Who wouldn't fall for a charming bastard like you?”

”Most wouldn't, as far as I know. But as long as I have you, and the Tesseract, I believe I can count myself more than lucky.”

”Damn right you can.” Tony stretched up to place a kiss on the side of Loki's neck, right above the high leather collar, and felt him give a shiver in response. One that echoed pleasantly through Tony's own body. He pulled back and cleared his throat, tried to focus on the matter at hand. ”You think you can get us home soon?”

Loki gave a swallow as well, before he could answer. ”Let's find out, shall we?” Then he raised his free hand in front of himself, long fingers moving in a flourish, flicking a spark of magic into the air. Just like the threads Tony had felt before, this looked like the usual golden green colour, but instead of a bright flare, it seemed fuller, more liquid, almost flowing through the air instead of flitting about the way Loki's magic used to. Even so, it obediently turned into a butterfly, circling on huge, pale blue wings above them.

A memory flickered to life at the sight, of Loki telling him that the first time he had seen Tony use his skill, it had been to turn one of Loki's butterflies blue. Perhaps he had somehow connected Loki to the colour even back then?

”Yes”, Loki murmured, pulling him back to here and now. ”I believe I can bring us home now.”

”That's great. Because I feel like we have some celebrating to do, after today.” With the way they were pressed together, perhaps that came out rather more suggestive than Tony had actually intended. But when Loki's head turned, dark eyes finding his, he couldn't feel any regret. Even though the look in those eyes was wary again. 

”Anthony -”

Tony cut him off. ”Not saying we have to. Honestly, just crawling into bed and going to sleep would be pretty great after the day we've had. I'm saying that nothing's changed for me since this morning.” He clutched his arm and leg a bit tighter around Loki's body, locking their eyes together. ”I still can't imagine any kind of life without you. Or any part of life. So, there's that.” He had to swallow, but made his gaze steady. ”I was meant to be yours, and if you want me, I will be.”

Loki was lost for words. For a while he was barely even breathing. And he didn't move until Tony slipped his hand up from Loki's ribs, where it had been fisted in the supple leather, to instead comb into his hair, gently urging his head down. Then he resisted, almost rearing back, eyes flitting between Tony's, and a couple of times down to his lips. 

There were so many more things Tony could have tried to say, but he had already said the most important ones. So he stayed silent. Hoped his honesty would show through his eyes, his touch, all the way from his very soul. All truth, no pretty lies. 

He felt Loki's arm shift behind his shoulders, a hand run into his hair and tilt his head, and then Loki was slowly leaning in, and pressing their lips together. It was soft and rather hesitant, but it was also real and warm and comforting. The last time Loki had kissed him, he had been wild and driven and barely known what he was doing. This was all different. More thoughtful, feeling Tony's lips out, fingertips rubbing against the back of his head. Until his fingers instead curled in Tony's hair and held him in place when Loki pulled back, not letting him attempt to keep them locked together.

There were streaks of higher colour across Loki's cheeks when Tony opened his eyes again, never even having noticed when they fell shut. He decided that he liked the way that looked.

”Get back inside your armour, Anthony.” The tone was half gravel, half satin. It gave Tony chills. ”We're going home.”

* * *

With the aid of the Cube, traveling back across the country was instantaneous, even with a passenger. Reaching the spot in the workshop also worked perfectly this time, and Anthony seemed happier to leave his suit there instead of up in his penthouse.

From there the man was about to start leaving the room on foot when Loki on impulse swept an arm around his waist, dragged a surprised Anthony into his chest, and with barely a flicker of a thought moved them a few floors up. Right into the center of the bathroom in the suite they had shared since Loki's arrival.

Just earlier that day he had decided he wouldn't set foot in those rooms again, that he would find a guest room to sleep in, to be safe. A part of him still wanted to do that, run and hide, keep the once-mortal safe from his influence, but Anthony's words had somehow convinced the rest of him that it wasn't necessary. That he could still have what was meant for him, no matter how unwise. When had they ever been wise, anyway? Clever, yes. Always so damn clever. Never wise. Although Anthony had come fairly close tonight.

Right now said man was stumbling even closer into him, disoriented from the sudden shift, but aimed a grin up at Loki even so. ”We're never walking anywhere again, are we?”

”Not if I can help it.”

Only then did the man glance around and saw where they were. He chuckled. ”I suppose I should take the hint that I need a shower.”

”More like we both do”, Loki said, arm still firmly in place around the other's lower back.

”Well, then.” Without his grin slipping, Anthony gently pushed himself away from Loki's front and promptly started undressing. Which, in the tight, thin, supple undersuit was more like watching him shed a second skin. It was rather a fascinating sight. Before Loki knew it, he was in just his underwear and eyeing Loki's armour with an eyebrow raised. ”This time you're _over_ dressed.”

With a careless shrug, Loki let his armour melt away. It was all magic anyway. Somehow he actually missed his real leathers. The created pieces felt very much the same, did the same job of protecting him, but they lacked the characteristic rich, spicy scent.

As soon as he was left bare, Anthony's eyes raked up and down his body, the tip of his tongue darting out to lick at the corner of his mouth. ”Now I guess I'm the one overdressed.” Because of course, Loki had left no such thing as underwear behind.

”You could always shower in those”, Loki offered with a gesture to Anthony's dark blue boxer briefs.

The golden brown eyes flitted away as Anthony bit his lip. ”No, that'd be pretty silly. Just... get the water running. I'll take care of it.”

Hiding his smile until his back was turned, Loki left him alone with his nervousness or embarrasment or whatever made him not want to strip with Loki watching. It wasn't necessary for him to oversee the procedure, after all. Instead he just stepped behind the lightly frosted glass walls of the shower and turned the soft, gentle patter of water on, tipped his head back and let it wash over his face, soak his hair, snake its way in rivulets down his back and chest. The temperature was just the right kind of warm, and he lost himself enough in the pleasure of it that he barely noticed that some of the warmth touching him after a while wasn't water, but something more solid. Arms were slowly sliding over his slippery wet sides to curl around his abdomen, and he felt Anthony's body shift closer to his back. A colder patch over his spine where the seal touched him made Loki gasp, turn in the hold on him, and grasp the man's wrists as he moved, freeing himself.

Suddenly enough to make Anthony startle, they were face to face, so close their skin brushed together from stomach to knees, and they were both under the spray of water. Blinking against the spatter, the man glanced down between them. And then Loki felt his body shake with what it took him a worried moment to realize was laughter, not sobbing.

”I thought I was the one who was supposed to be made to smile”, he said as he let Anthony's wrists go, settling his hands on his still shaking shoulders.

Laughing a little harder, Anthony got his hands back around Loki, leaned his forehead against the front of his left shoulder, and shook his head a little once it rested there. ”It's not really funny”, he got out. ”It's just that... it's _you_.”

There was no need to explain further. ”I know.” He ran his hands into Anthony's now wet hair, turned to even darker curls from the water, curling his fingers in the wet strands to turn his head until they were facing each other. ”I am quite unbelievable”, he smirked, leaning in to brush his crooked smile against the other's lips.

”Smug bastard”, Anthony chuckled against his mouth.

And the warmth of his breath, of his tone, the brushes of his lips, made Loki unable to resist leaning in and planting his own lips on his again. The water washed away some of the taste of the man's lips, and made Loki lick i between them, past the teeth parting to let him in, chasing more of the sweetness.

There came a noise from Anthony, a small, muffled grunt, as if Loki had punched him in the gut, not kissed him. He had to remind himself that to his Anthony, this was all new. Not just between them, but completely new. Loki knew he should take it slow, give the man a chance to find his feet. Not because Anthony could really do anything wrong in this, but because Loki knew him well enough to know that Anthony would still believe there was something in this he could fail at.

It was hard to go easy, however. So hard. The soft, hot sweep of the man's tongue against his was a bit clumsy, but as always so eager to please. His hands were flat against the back of Loki's lower ribs, pressing harder when he tensed to stretch up on his toes, coming closer. Moaning, unable to stop himself, Loki let his own hands slide down Anthony's back in turn, feeling the taut twin ridges of muscle running down along the gentle curve of his spine, trembling just slightly under his fingertips.

But when they came to press flush together like this, the chill of the seal in Anthony's chest was against his sternum, and the sensation rapidly pulled Loki back to reality. He couldn't let himself come into contact with the spell. Not like this. But oh, how he didn't wish to be separated from the intimate skin-on-skin contact either. So he did the only sensible thing – or what felt like it – and grabbed Anthony, reluctantly broke their kiss, and more or less manhandled him face first up against one of the just barely see-through glass walls. The man sputtered, sucking down a wet gasp, taken by surprise, but didn't struggle.

”Did... did I do someth-?”

Loki cut off the question he knew was coming, sliding his hands around to the front of Anthony's shoulders, holding him close. ”You did nothing wrong, my Anthony. Never anything wrong.” He bent his head down and painted a line of wet, open-mouthed kisses up from his muscled shoulder, along the tense like of his neck, to the spot behind his ear. To stay there and whisper against the delicate shell. ”You're perfect. Always perfect. Just for me.”

The touch, and possibly the possessive tone of his words, made Anthony shudder against his body, and then relax, melting between Loki and the wall. Perhaps it was the tension leaving him that made him chuckle softly again, the warm steam of his breath fogging the glass by his mouth even more. ”This is real, isn't it? You're really here?” As if he was worried it was all a dream.

And Loki could understand. He'd had to remind himself more than once that this invitingly warm body in his arms was his Anthony. The one meant for him. The blindingly brilliant, honestly loyal, fierce, brave, clever, _perfect_ person always meant to be his.

”I'm here”, he assured, moving even closer to Anthony, well aware that he was pressing the obvious sign of his own arousal against the man's backside. But he couldn't feel embarrassed about that, not now.

Anthony groaned at the contact. ”Should have guessed you'd be like this”, he muttered through the water trickling down his face, across his lips. One of his hands came up to clutch at the back of Loki's neck, holding him in place.

Grinning against the sensitive spot behind his ear, Loki moved to nip at the soft ear lobe with his teeth. ”Like what, exactly?”

With another groan, Anthony squeezed his eyes shut. Loki could see the soft skin of his eyelids crease around the wet, lumped together eyelashes on the side of his face turned Loki's way. ”All... bossy.” He squirmed a little. ”All high and mighty. Royal know-it-all. Prince of - ah!”

Dropping a hand down along his side, Loki had shoved it in between Anthony's front and the wall, wrapping long fingers around his length, so hard it throbbed against his touch. A hot-and-cold shiver raced along Loki's spine at the sensation, as he gave it a firm stroke.

”Prince of what, now?” His voice was a gravelly, growly purr he barely recognized himself.

Anthony couldn't answer. He just whined against the glass, helplessly grinding forward into Loki's hand. Just as beyond embarrasment, he was all desperate for friction. ”Loki.” The name was a whimper, a prayer. ”Loki, Loki, Loki...” It seemed to be the only word he had left, breathing it out over and over, in time with the movements of his hip. The blunt tips of his fingers digging almost painfully hard into the muscles at the back of Loki's neck, unwilling to let go, to lose himself all the way.

Remembering the reaction to his possessive words earlier, the way Anthony had offered himself up to be his previously that night, Loki thought he knew the way to push him over. ”My Anthony”, he murmured by his ear. ”All mine.”

With a wetly garbled shout that could have been meant to be an ecstatic _yes!_ echoing in the closed space, Anthony squirmed and bucked, locked rigid, and came, all over the wall. Then he turned liquid in Loki's arms, knees giving out, fully expecting Loki to hold him up, not let him crumble to the tiled floor. And of course he didn't, instead wrapping his arms around the limp form and holding the man tightly to his chest, letting him catch his breath.

No-one had ever trusted him the way his Anthony did, and nothing had ever warmed Loki's heart as much as knowing he had somehow earned this. All of this. Everything he could have ever wished for.


	14. Chapter 14

For the third morning they woke up together in the same bed. For the second morning Tony woke up wrapped up in Loki's arms. He decided he would be happy to do that every morning for as long as he lived.

After the very satisfying shower they had rubbed themselves dry, pulled on clean underwear, and moved to the bed. Just when he was getting ready to get under the duvet Tony had noticed the wary glances Loki kept throwing in the direction of his chest, and stopped. Without a word he had turned back to the wardrobe, pulled out a black tank top and tugged it over his head, hiding most of the blue glow emanating from under his skin, and then slipped into bed. Shifting around until he was Loki's little spoon, just like he had been before things had gone all wrong that morning.

He had felt Loki hesitate, but then his arms had come to cradle his torso again, hands experimentally brushing over the seal and apparently finding it safe, since they had stayed pressed to his chest when Loki moved closer, settling by his back. Then his soft voice, just barely audible, had whispered a ”thank you”. 

Tony had fallen asleep smiling into his pillow.

They were more or less in the same position now, had hardly moved at all during the night, and when Tony groaned and stretched himself long and tense, hands hitting the headboard, rolling over on his back, Loki just grumbled something sleep-hoarse and tugged him to his chest harder as soon as he stilled once more. He turned his head to find Loki's face right by his shoulder, eyes still closed, and couldn't help grinning at the wildly tousled mess his black hair was after they had gone to bed with it still damp. Tony guessed his hair wasn't in much better shape. He reached an arm across his own chest and stroke soft fingertips up Loki's cheek, to the jut of his cheekbone, through the soft, black down by his temple, into the thicker, more silky strands of his hair. Realizing how curly it really was when Loki let it mind its own business.

Black eyelashes fluttered and a narrow, green eye opened to watch his face. Tony gave him a sweet smile.

”There you are.”

”No”, Loki growled, closing his eye again and rubbing his face against Tony's shoulder. ”I'm not here. I'm still asleep. Leave me be.”

”You sound pretty awake to me”, Tony pointed out, his fingers burrowing ever deeper in the tangles of Loki's hair, catching on knots and gently teasing them out as he went. And even if Loki had asked Tony to leave him be, it was impossible to miss the way he turned his head to get Tony's fingers to the right spots, making rumbling noises of pleasure that were almost purrs.

”You are imagining things”, Loki muttered, even as he started moving under the duvet, turning and shifting until he ended up on top of Tony, propped up with his elbows on either side of his ribcage, resting his forehead on a pectoral. Wordlessly giving Tony room to bury the fingers of both hands in his hair. Which Tony didn't hesitate to do. ”I'm obviously sound asleep, as one should be at this ungodly hour of the day.”

Tony glanced to the side, eyeing the red numbers glowing at him from the bedside table. ”It's almost noon.”

”Ungodly.”

Chuckling at the whiny note of misery, Tony kept playing with the long, black tresses, scratching his trimmed-short fingernails against Loki's scalp. ”You poor thing.” Words heavy with false commiseration.

A hum of agreement came as Loki moved on top of him, burrowing his face under Tony's jaw, leaving sleep-warm kisses on the skin of his neck, slightly rough from his stubble. 

Breath catching at the sensation, Tony felt his hands fist in Loki's hair. ”You don't... have it easy. At all.”

”True.” With one last kiss right under his chin, by the edge of his goatee, Loki raised himself higher until he was hovering above Tony's face. ”Nothing but suffering.”

”Let me help you with that”, Tony murmured, tugging at the hair filling his hands, willing Loki down until their lips came together.

Another pleased rumble escaped Loki's throat as he sank into the kiss, and besides letting up slightly now and then so they could breathe, he didn't come back up out of it for a long time. Their legs tangled up in the warmth under the duvet, their fingers in the other's hair, bodies so tightly pressed together they could feel each other's heartbeats and hitched, heavy breathing. Kisses changing from light brushes of lips, soft pecks and kitten licks, to tongues exploring unknown depths, teeth clicking together, nipping at lips, before it all eased back into softness.

When Loki at last let go of his mouth, resting his head on the shared pillow, Tony pulled his hands from his hair and wrapped his arms around his back instead, holding Loki close. ”Still suffering?”

”Horribly”, came the muffled reply from the pillow, accompanied by a roll of Loki's hip into Tony's, pointedly pressing their hard ons together.

Groaning, Tony dug his fingertips into the hollows between Loki's ribs, pressing back up into him. ”Let me... help you with that”, he repeated, slightly breathless, and then moved to push them around on the mattress, toppling Loki over on his side and then his back – which he only managed because the other allowed it – and tossed the duvet aside. The heat was getting stifling anyway.

With his arms on the pillow, framing his head, Loki watched with a silent smile as Tony moved up on his knees and then went to tug Loki's underwear down his legs. He just lifted his hips a little, to make it easier, and then sank back down on the sheet, waiting to see what Tony would do next. Even naked, his obvious, flushed arousal laid bare, he seemed perfectly at ease. And Tony was certain he'd never seen anything more beautiful, all lean muscle and marked bone structure under smooth, pale skin.

It wasn't hesitation that stopped Tony from moving, but perhaps Loki thought so, because he tilted his head on the pillow, let his smile fade a little. ”What do you want, Anthony?” 

”This.” All gravel. ”You.”

”Well, I'm yours. For the taking.” Illustrating his point, he spread his legs a little, making room for Tony as he moved closer.

Sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth, Tony eyed what was laid out before him. ”And the tasting?”

Again came the streaks of gorgeous pink across Loki's cheeks. ”And that”, he confirmed, reaching a hand out to cup Tony's head as he bent closer.

And Tony did taste. Deeply and thoroughly, both curiously and greedily exploring every change in texture and scent, enjoying each breathless noise he drew from Loki. Until he was pretty damn sure he'd helped alleviate any suffering, and his own movements and efforts, driving his hips into the mattress, had made sure he wasn't suffering himself anymore either.

After that they weren't actually happier to leave the comfort of the bed, but in the end they did anyway, to clean themselves up, dress in something soft and casual, and move to the small kitchen. Where Tony made the only breakfast he could handle – fried bacon with scrambled eggs done in the grease left in the pan – and introduced Loki to the wonder that was coffee. He was sceptical at first, wrinkling his long nose at the bitter taste, but once Tony had added a bit of heavy cream to his cup Loki was happier. And so was Tony – mostly about the long, caffeine-fueled session of making out that followed, with Tony's lower back pushed against the edge of the kitchen counter, while Loki licked the lingering grease and saltiness off his lips.

It was the way Tony would prefer every day to begin, and it was almost physically painful when they eventually had to break apart and get back to a serious discussion about everything they still needed to do.

After letting go of Tony, Loki kept sipping his now cold coffee, while Tony poured his down the drain and made a new, hot batch. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

As they waited for the coffee maker to finish, Loki lifted himself up to sit on the counter, took his cup in his hands again and watched Tony try to smooth his unruly hair down a little. ”What do you believe will happen now?”

Tony thought about it, frowning at the slowly dripping coffee. ”Well, for one thing, SHIELD aren't stupid. We've just broken into two of their facilities and stolen two artefacts they must know are powerful. One of which they couldn't even move. There were at least a few witnesses in both locations, that damn archer in both, at that. They will be putting two and two together, and know the same thieves struck twice.”

”Will they know it was you?”

”It's highly likely they will at least suspect it.” Tony shrugged. ”My armour is pretty unique, even with a colour-change, so they will come asking questions at the very least, that much I'm sure of.”

”And what are our options when they do?” Loki raised a brow as he sipped from his cold coffee again.

”Well, I could refuse, lock them out, fight them when that confirms their suspicion and they come to apprehend me.” The last gurgling noise from the coffee maker told Tony it was done, and he poured himself a fresh cup before carrying on. ”I would rather not do that, however. It would be terribly messy, and we still need to stay somewhat in their good graces.”

”And why is that?” Now Loki put his cup aside, placed his palms on the edge of the counter and leaned a little bit forward, listening with an intent expression.

”Because we still need to find Thor”, Tony pointed out. Which made Loki frown.

”I thought we knew where they are keeping him.”

”We do, but at the same time we don't.” He raked a hand back through his hair, making it as tangled and tousled as it had been all over again. ”He is on the helicarrier, that much I know for certain, but the thing with a flying, concealed ship is that it moves. Constantly. And they are smart enough not to track its movements, even in their own files. I have no idea where the thing is. And you still need that to travel there, right? Even with the Cube?”

After a moment's consideration, Loki nodded. ”Yes. I would need at least an approximate location. Once we are close enough I could probably sense Thor's presence and travel directly to him. But I would need to get closer, yes.”

”As I thought. So we have more to lose by fighting them than not. And the alternatives would be to run, leave everything here behind and spend our time hidden, tracking them down. Or we could let them do what they will probably want, especially if I manage to piss them off – take me into custody. The saftest place for them to take me is the carrier.”

Loki's brows furrowed, lips pursed. ”I do not like either of those options. One means you leaving behind all you have worked so hard for, the other letting them take you away. They might do anything to you, if they believe that you have stolen from them.”

Smiling, Tony put his cup aside and stepped in between Loki's spread legs, hanging off the counter. He ran soothing palms up and down his sides under the t-shirt Loki had borrowed. ”The only thing here I refuse to leave is the suit. I can't make a new one, at least not with the materials I have on hand now. The rest I can do without, or rebuild, or get back. It's just... stuff. And they wouldn't get to have me for long. Just until I got to the carrier and got a message back to you.”

Placing his hands on Tony's shoulders, close to the sides of his neck, Loki still looked unhappy with the plan. ”They wouldn't let you do that, and you know it.”

Tony snorted. ”Let me? Darling, they couldn't stop me even if they knew to try.”

Loki raised an eyebrow at the endearment, the corner of his mouth following the upward movement. 

”All you would need to do is to keep your eyes on a phone or tablet”, Tony explained. ”Something I could get some sort of message sent to. Then you could travel to me.”

”And if you don't know your location?”

”Mark me.” Tony gave a shrug. ”Like we used to do to prey when hunting. You could sense my location from a much greater distance like that, and when you know I'm in place, it would be easy. Then you get Thor and me out, and we leave.”

In silence Loki thought about this, then he gave a sigh and leaned forward until their foreheads touched. ”And after that, you would still be forced to leave everything and go into hiding, wouldn't you?”

”I told you – it doesn't matter to me.” He wrapped his arms around Loki's lower back, breathing in their mingled scent in the space between their bodies. ”There are just a few things I'd need to bring from here, apart from the armour, and I would be prepared to start all over somewhere else. My company here would still run, I've made sure of that. The Tower would still stand. It just wouldn't be my home anymore.” There he leaned back enough to meet Loki's concerned gaze. ”But you're home to me, so that is all that matters.”

”I still don't like it”, Loki said, before nibbling almost nervously on his bottom lip, unusually dark red after all the morning's kisses. ”So much could happen to you when I'm not there. There is so much for you to lose. I left you with nothing once, I do not wish to do so once more.”

”You wouldn't. Not as long as you don't leave, too.”

Loki's eyes fell shut and he visibly deflated, sagging on the counter with a slow exhale. ”Never, Anthony. Never again.”

”Then we'll be fine.” Tony pushed up on his toes and placed a soft kiss at the corner of Loki's downturned mouth. ”And if worst comes to worst we can always get off this Realm altogether to find a new one and get into other kinds of trouble, until Midgard has forgotten that we even exist and we can come back here to start all over. Again. How's that sound?”

Loki chuckled as he turned his head to capture his mouth properly. ”Perfect”, he mumbled into the kiss. ”Absolutely perfect.”


	15. Chapter 15

It was three days until SHIELD finally showed up. Slower than Tony had expected, but he couldn't complain. It gave him more than enough time to pack has armour down as compact as he could make it, stuff it with his undersuit and a light pad filled with all the data and contacts he would need to start up Tony Stark 2.0 somewhere new, if he had to. And he suspected it would have to. He found it sort of sweet that Loki was concerned about that, while he himself couldn't care much less. It had been a makeshift life, no matter how extravagant it had looked on the surface. He'd had fun building it, yes, but he was far less attached than Loki seemed to believe.

When he'd said the armour was the only thing he genuinely cared about keeping, he'd meant it. It was the crown jewel of his work on Midgard, after all.

He locked it all up in a safe not even a nuclear blast could budge, gave Loki a phone he himself had memorized the number for, and felt a bit better about his preparations.

Three days was also more than enough time for Loki to weave the tracking mark into his skin. When they had gone hunting in the past they had put the spells on their arrows, of course. Placing one on living tissue took some more work. Although Tony was fairly sure it didn't actually take as much work as Loki put into this mark. The fact that he had chosen to place the little rune for L high up on Tony's inner thigh – under the excuse that it wouldn't so easily be discovered there – was probably part of why Loki had found reasons to go over the threads of magic with both fingers and lips and tongue, many more times than could possibly be necessary.

Tony couldn't find a single reason to complain.

When the day came and the arrival of two visitors from SHIELD was announced from the lobby of the Tower, Loki still wasn't pleased about the plan. Tony had suggested he leave the Tower altogether, but he had flat out refused. So instead he pressed a last, almost desperately hard kiss to Tony's lips, and camouflaged himself once the elevator started moving up through the building.

After all the time he had spent poking around in SHIELD's files, Tony knew everything he needed to know about the two men sent to fetch him. And they sure were not the average agents. Which he probably should have expected, considering the interest shown in his person even before it all came to this.

The first man out of the elevator was tall, blond, spectacularly broad-shouldered, dressed in dark blue with a star across his chest, carrying a shield on his back. Easy to place as Steve Rogers, more commonly known as Captain America. More or less accidentally fished out of the ice and ocean when they had finally found the Tesseract, which he had crashed his plane to save the world from in the first place. Tony thought that detail might be more than useful in dealing with the super soldier.

Behind Rogers followed a timid-looking man who seemed positively tiny in comparison to the soldier. Which Tony knew he himself would as well, but he thought this man might even be slightly shorter than he was. The man stepping into the penthouse now, dressed in plain, brown pants and jacket, a dark purple shirt the only flash of colour, also had a posture of folding in on himself, hands clasped in front of his body as if he was afraid of breaking anything he touched, glancing around nervously. It all made him seem even smaller.

Tony happened to know this was deceptive of what the man was really capable of. He had read up on Bruce Banner as well, after all, and the connection there was between his accident and the serum that had made Rogers into who he was now.

During his first months on Earth, working to absorb as much of its knowledge and science as possible, Tony had read some of the doctor's work. It had been fascinating – although not as fascinating as the explosive, green secret hidden behind his rather mousy facade, which Tony of course hadn't found out about until he had made his way into SHIELD's systems. He could guess that Banner had been called in both as a help in finding the Cube, and shamelessly used as a threat of brute force if Tony should refuse to cooperate. He almost felt sorry for the man.

Somehow, he also found himself happy to see them both. As if they were old friends of his. Even though they wouldn't agree.

Still, Tony applied a wide smile as he walked up to greet them. Casually reaching a hand out when he got close enough to Rogers for a shake.

”Gentlemen. Quite an honour to meet you. Captain, pleasure, at ease and so on and so forth.”

The soldier's bright blue eyes fixed on his face in wary confusion as he hesitantly accepted Tony's hand and gave it a firm, short, businesslike shake. ”Mr. Stark?”

With a curt nod as the only affirmation that he was indeed who they were looking for, Tony turned to greet doctor Banner. ”Doctor. Your work on antielectron collisions is unparalleled. I also have to confess I'm a bit of a fan of your particular brand of anger management issues.”

Banner accepted his hand and carefully shook it during the first part of his greeting, squirming slightly at the last part, looking embarrassed and glancing around, uncomfortable, searching for something else to settle his gaze on. ”Thanks”, he muttered, letting Tony's hand go a quickly as he could without being overtly rude.

As he waved them along into the penthouse, Tony considered what he had felt while he shook their hands. The contact had been brief, but enough to be interesting. After all, the human DNA was just another form of code, its very own brand of magic, and Tony realized now, when he had tried to tap into it, that he could. He could tinker with it too, he was sure, if he wanted. He was less sure that he should.

Then again, these men had both had their basic structure wildly remodeled already. In somewhat similar, and also completely different ways. Just like Tony supposed he would find that his own was, really. That Apple Loki had fed him, it had definitely turned him into something other than an average human.

Rogers had felt like every cell of his being had been coated in metal. It was almost a crystalline structure, neat and hard and sleek and perfect. An injury would heal quickly and well, and the strength he was capable of would be impressive. Sure, Tony had already known that, but now he saw the reason.

Banner had much of the same reenforcement. Some of it even more powerful. But his internal makeup was in a constant state of restless struggle, the balance way off. He had to spend huge amounts of energy to stay in control, to stay the way he was. It was probably such a habit of his now that he barely reflected on it consciously anymore, but Tony couldn't help but wonder what his brilliant mind would be able to achieve if he didn't have to use so much of his energy to simply stay human.

He also wondered if he could convince the doctor to let him take a closer look at that, once this was over. If it ever would be. Tony thought he might be able to help, but it would take more than a quick handshake to do that.

”What brings you here?”, he asked when he reached the bar and glanced back at the men approaching with clear hesitation. They had most likely expected a fight, or resistance, or any sort of violence, really. Not polite greeting. ”Drinks? I'm having one.”

They both shook their heads in unison. 

”Sure? Oh, well, then perhaps you would prefer to get down to business?” He poured a glass of scotch and still had the time to put the bottle away and walk back around the bar before Rogers finally spoke up.

”I'm afraid it's pretty unpleasant business, Mr. Stark.” He squared his already impressive shoulders, thumbs settling on his belt, and carried on. ”The Tesseract has been stolen from a SHIELD facility, and there are reasons to believe that you were directly involved, along with an as of yet unknown accomplice.”

Yes, Loki would be an unknown factor, wouldn't he? Tony couldn't hold back a tiny smile. He was sure they noticed, but he couldn't care.

”I have two things to say to that, Captain”, Tony declaired, before sipping his drink. ”First, it couldn't very well have been stolen, since it never belonged to SHIELD in the first place. Second, if I had it in my possession, do you really believe you could make me return it?” He raised an eyebrow at the last part, honestly curious about how they had planned to play this.

The soldier clenched his teeth, making the muscles in his jaw flex as he took a couple of long, heavy steps closer. ”I am prepared to do anyting I can to return it. It needs to be kept safe.”

”That I actually agree with. The part where you equate 'safe' with SHIELD is where we're having a bit of a disagreement.”

”You have no idea what you are dealing with here, Mr. Stark”, the Captain said earnestly, blue eyes filled with honest concern. This man wasn't asking for the Cube back out of personal greed or gain, that much was obvious even if Tony hadn't known it already. Steve meant every word he said. The problem was that he was wrong.

”Actually, Rogers? I believe I do. A much better idea than SHIELD ever had.” Tony was completely serious now, as well. ”If I had the thing in my possession, I wouldn't – and this is just an example off the top of my head, obviously – be making weapons out of it.”

It was as if the man froze solid – for a second time – right in front of Tony's eyes. He stared blankly for a few moments, while the doctor shifted uncomfortably a step behind his right shoulder.

Banner cleared his throat, the rather soft sound still making Rogers startle a little, pulled from shock. ”If you do have the Cube, Mr. Stark, you might as well tell us. We will find it soon enough.” He sounded reasonable, although perhaps slightly more on edge.

Tony raised his free hand, palm out in a placating gesture. ”I really don't have it.” Which wasn't a lie. He didn't have it; Loki did.

”You might not be very surprised that we don't believe you.” The Captain had gotten his words back, although he sounded rattled. Tony was sure someone was going to be getting a lot of uncomfortable, angry questions later. He hoped it was Fury.

”Not very, no.” Flashing him a pleasant smile Tony raised his glass, and emptied it. He was toeing a fine line – he wanted them suspicious and annoyed enough to bring him in for further questioning, but since they had sent Banner, he couldn't outright piss them off. ”Even though you haven't even told me why you think I have it in the first place.”

”You do have a fairly distinctive piece of tech on your hands, Mr. Stark”, the doctor pointed out. ”It was seen where the Cube was stolen.”

Raising his index finger on the hand still holding his empty glass, Tony shook his head.

Banner actually rolled his eyes, and Tony decided that he liked the doctor. ”Where it was _taken_ , then.”

”Let my cousin borrow the suit”, Tony deadpanned. ”Must have taken it for a joyride. I should probably look into that.”

”Is everything a joke to you?” Rogers was starting to look thunderous. 

”Well, funny things are...”

When the Captain started taking a step closer to Tony he looked about frustrated enough to grab him and toss him out the window. Tony really wished it hadn't been necessary to poke the soldier's every sore spot to get to this point.

Just as Rogers began shifting his weight forward, doctor Banner settled a hand on his arm and held him back. ”Steve. We're not getting anywhere. We should... wrap it up here.”

A scowl was marring the soldier's handsome face, but he did stop. And nodded. ”Since you won't talk to us, Mr. Stark, we'll need to take you to see someone else.”

Finally...

Hiding his relief behind an arched brow, Tony went to put his glass away on the counter of the bar. He turned back, only to find himself face-to-wide-chest with the Captain, who had followed on his heels. ”Whoa.” Grinning, Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. ”If Fury wanted a date so badly, he could have just asked...”

Rogers didn't even let Tony grab a jacket after that; the soldier just dragged him into the elevator with a steel grip on his upper arm. The doctor following in an awkward, worried shuffle.

Right before the sliding doors closed, Tony caught a faint glimmer of green around Loki's shape, standing in the middle of the penthouse. He gave him a wink, and then the doors were closed and they were separated. Again. Tony tried to assure himself it was only temporary this time, and by his own choice.

He was taken to a car waiting outside the Tower, driven to an abandoned airstrip where an odd-looking little plane was waiting for them, and then they all walked onboard, strapped in, and the thing took off.

Captain Rogers disappeared into the cockpit soon after they were stable and level in flight, but Tony stayed in his seat, right next to doctor Banner, who looked lost in thought.

”You have given up on fixing it, haven't you?”

The doctor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose in a nervous gesture, and eyed Tony warily. ”I don't know -”

”Yes, you know what I mean”, Tony pointed out, but gently. ”I'm just telling you that you haven't tried everything.”

A self-deprecating twist of a smile was all he got for an answer before the man turned away again.

”Just saying.” Stretching his arms above his head Tony slouched in his seat and then let them come to rest along the backs of the seats next to his. Which meant Banner's, too. ”If you agreed to go chasing after the Tesseract, you might as well start believing in miracles.”

That earned him a raised brow. And his casually placed arm got an odd look too. 

After that they traveled in silence, for a fairly long time. Tony had no way of knowing where they were when they finally touched down on the deck of the helicarrier, and he was happy they had thought to place the tracker on him before he'd been taken away. 

Luckily, SHIELD had decided to let him stew and sweat for a bit before they interrogated him, so while doctor Banner drifted away with a last thoughtful look Tony's way, the soldier led him to the cell where they had opted to keep him. Captain Rogers' frowning face was the last thing Tony saw before the door to the holding cell slammed shut, and he had just enough time to gave him a smirk and a teasing little salute before it closed. Then the locks clicked into place, and despite what they might think on the other side of that door, everything had basically gone according to plan.

With the little smirk still in place, he dropped his fingers from his forehead and settled them over the key pad for the lock. The fact that there was one on the inside, although clearly disabled, told him this room was probably never intended to be a cell, they had just temporarily used it as one. He could have done what he needed to without the pad, but it gave him a slightly easier point of access, so that was a good thing.

Tony was sure they were watching his every move, but to them it would look like he was just resting his fingers by the keys, not even touching them. Why would they care?

The lock was pretty intricate, for what it was, but to a man who had grown up practicing his skill at tinkering on magical locks older than the entire civilization that had spawned this technology, it was nothing. He could have torn through it like the gossamer of a spider web, but that was not what he intended. There was no reason for him to break free – he was exactly where he wanted to be for the moment.

Instead he used the access point to reach into the network of the ship, carefully sneaking past any watchful eyes, not touching anything in their systems that could draw attention, merely finding an exit point. Then he focused on the number for the phone he had left Loki with, formed a message in his mind, turned it to code, and slipped it past the guards. Who had no idea what had just happened. All they could see was Tony turning from the key pad, walking over to the narrow bunk in the other end of the room, and stretching out there to wait.

It shouldn't be long now.

* * *

It all seemed to have gone according to plan.

Anthony had riled the men from SHIELD up enough to make them drag him off for questioning – which was something Loki preferred not to think about. He didn't think they would kill his Anthony; they wanted the Tesseract too badly. But they might hurt him before Loki got there, and that was unacceptable.

He was certain he had waited for an age when the device Anthony had told him to keep a close eye on finally made a shrill double beep. Quickly he raised the hand holding it from where it had been resting in his lap while he was sitting in the sofa in the penthouse. He hadn't moved far since getting that last glimpse of Anthony disappearing in the elevator.

_In place. Come get me, darling._

Unable to hold back a smirk as he let the little device drop back into his lap, Loki tipped his head back over the top of the backrest, closed his eyes, and searched for Anthony. At the very least he should be able to pick up a direction, know where to turn and move to get closer, to find a better, clearer trace to follow. His brow furrowed as he focused harder, and found... nothing.

Gritting his teeth Loki siphoned more power from the Cube in his possession and cast around wider, searching more intensely, let the blue, liquid force ripple through his nerves and bones until his skin prickled and his hair stood on end. But there was still nothing.

His heart crawled up into his throat as he considered the possible reasons for his mark to fail. The most likely one being that Anthony was dead. That would break his spell instantly – one of the reasons they had marked the arrows while hunting, not the prey. Horror coiled in his gut before he made himself pull a deep breath, slow down, and think. 

Loki swallowed and looked down at the phone in his hand. The force of his grip had made a fan of cracks spread over the screen from a corner, and he made himself loosen his hold so he wouldn't destroy the fragile thing completely.

He had gotten a message from Anthony mere moments ago, and he was certain it was from him. It had to be. Perhaps he had been discovered sending it, and dispatched on the spot?

With a choked kind of growl, Loki shook his head in mute denial. No! That could not be it! There was no possiblity that his Anthony was dead. He flat out refused to believe it.

So what other reason could there be for Loki's failure to locate him?

He scowled at the device in his hand, as if it was refusing to tell him, when a memory reached him. A memory of Anthony telling him that the helicarrier was constantly moving – and concealed. Whatever technology the humans used to hide from each other should not be enough to cut him off from his own magic, so lovingly woven into Anthony's skin and flesh, but perhaps it wasn't all technology? They had failed to make weapons out of the Cube, but perhaps that wasn't all they had tried to make?

Eyes narrowed in thought, he tapped the top of the phone against his lips, considering.

If they had utilized the power of the Tesseract alone to construct a camouflage, his use of the same power would have let him penetrate it with ease. But mixed with their own devices, their sciences twisting that power, he was far less certain of the outcome. And if Anthony had taught him anything, it was to never, ever underestimate the ingenuity and tenacity of the mortals. They could very well have created a shield he couldn't see through. And if that was the case, he had no possibility of finding Anthony, or Thor.

Growling louder he fought the urge to throw the phone across the room, and instead slipped it into a pocket – this an actual one, under the left chest piece of his long leather vest; he didn't know how it would affect the device to be put in his pocket dimension beside the Hammer and the Cube. Chances were it wouldn't fare well there, and he might need it again, if Anthony sent another message.

He got off the seat in the sofa and paced, considering his options now that the original plan had failed.

In the end, there was really only one that felt useful. Which meant Loki would need to do exactly what Anthony had said he would do to get on the helicarrier in the first place – he would have to piss SHIELD off.

Loki felt his lips stretch in a grin that was more threat than mirth as he reached his hand out to grasp Mjölner out of nothing, and in the next instant the penthouse of Stark Tower was empty.


	16. Chapter 16

Tony hadn't expected to wait more than a few seconds for Loki to show up in his cell. Perhaps a few minutes, at the most, if there was something Loki still needed to prepare before leaving the Tower. Now it had been a lot more than just a few minutes. Tony had no watch to keep track of the time, but he was sure it had to be approaching an hour since he'd sent that message to Loki.

He was still on his back on the bed, even though nervous restlessness was crawling through him, turned the hands under his head to tense fists. Something had gone wrong, and he had no idea what. All he knew was that Loki wasn't here, where he should have been. Loki had watched him go and then not come to him when he called. A dark, frightened part of him, still scarred after the moment he had woken up alone, abandoned on a green field in an unknown world, whispered that Loki had done it again. He had sent Tony off with SHIELD, never planning to come after him, all the time intending to leave him there.

The thought hurt. It hurt so bad.

Pinching his eyes shut tight, clenching his teeth, Tony tried to push it away. That didn't have to be the answer, after all. Maybe his message had failed to send? Maybe Loki hadn't seen it? Maybe some detail neither of them had thought of had gone wrong and that was why? It didn't have to be that Loki had been happy to be rid of him... That was just his fears talking, right? Right...

As time passed, one hour turning to at least a couple more of them, Tony couldn't stay on the bed. He was pacing, restless and worried and driven by fear and pain, the energy whirring along his tense muscles refusing to let him stay still.

Not only was Loki taking far too long – SHIELD hadn't come for him either. And that didn't sit right with Tony at all.

He had just started considering slipping into their systems after all, see if he could find out what had happened, when the locks on the door clicked open and two heavily armed agents showed up in the doorway. Tony didn't resist at all when they crowded him face first into a wall and cuffed his hands behind his back. There was no reason, nothing to gain. So he let them lead him through the helicarrier to what looked like a conference room, walls bare, windows opening to the wide sky outside – all stars on black – and a long, oval table in the middle, surrounded by comfortable-looking chairs.

Next to the table a familiar man was stading. Tall, bald, dark skin scarred around an eyepatch, all leather coat over black, practical garments. The tell-tale bulge of a gun by his hip. Director Nick Fury nodded at the agents, and they promptly led Tony to the closest chair by the table, guiding him to sit.

The seat was far less comfortable than expected when he had his hands still cuffed at the small of his back, but Tony could make do. Even if he had to sit up straight instead of casually leaning back the way he wanted.

Once the agents were out and the door closed behind them, Tony gave Fury a smile that was as fake as it was bright. ”You send me new friends, give me my own room, and even jewelery.” He made the short chain between his wrists rattle a little to clarify what he was talking about. ”Whatever did I do to deserve all this?”

”I think you know, Stark.” As he took a seat just one chair over from Tony, the director picked a paper off what looked like a stack of them and slapped a printed frame from what had to be a surveillance camera on the table in front of him. It showed Tony's now-black armour, his chest and palms glowing bright blue, a blurry glimpse of Loki showing behind him. It seemed to be from the place where they had taken Mjölner, but before he could be sure, another picture was placed on top of it. This one also showing Tony in his suit, palms out threateningly, Loki behind his shoulder. This time in the chamber where the Tesseract had been kept. ”You've been busy lately.”

”Me? Really? You can't see a face or anything.” Tony leaned back as far as he could, after having studied the pictures closely. ”Need to do better than that, Nick.”

”I can.” A long, dark finger tapped against the glow of the Arch Seal in the center of the pictured Tony's chest. ”The measurements of this suit matches yours. Exactly. You think a dye job will fool us, Stark? It doesn't. We know this is you. So far we don't know exactly who your buddy is, or why you decided to break in and steal our property, but we'll find out. You can trust me on that one.”

”Well, I'd love to trust you, director, but I really don't. Because I'm not about to tell you.”

”Maybe you won't. You sure about him?”

Fury tapped the surface of a tablet resting in front of him on the table, visible now that the papers on top were moved, and then slid the device over to Tony. It showed a surveillance feed of Loki, trapped in a round glass cage, slowly stalking around the perimiter of it. He was slightly hunched over, one hand resting against his middle, as if his stomach was sore, or perhaps his ribs.

It looked a bit exaggerated in Tony's eyes; even if they had actually managed to injure Loki to the point of lingering pain, which was highly unlikely, there was no way Loki would have let it show. He would have gone to great lengths to hide any weakness.

There were also a few scrapes and bruises on his face, and Tony was certain those were as faked as the pain. All an act to look the defeated prisoner.

Tony felt the tension in his shoulders and his gut begin to ease, uncoil, and he could breathe more freely again. Even when he was still cuffed.

Something had gone wrong with the plan, that much he had already figured out, even though he still didn't know what. But it didn't matter anymore. Loki had taken care of it. Loki was here. He hadn't abandoned Tony, left him in SHIELD's clutches and made off somewhere, as Tony had feared in his darkest moments in the holding cell. He was here now, and everything would be well.

He even thought he could see a barely-there hint of amusement on Loki's marked face. Not a smile, but a faint tension around his eyes that whispered of a wish to let a grin stretch his mouth as wide as it would go.

”This guy showed up at the same facility where you two waltzed in and stole the Cube, held this god-awful speach about how everyone should kneel before him because he was the fucking king of the world, and when he had all my agents and researchers cowering in the dirt, lightning more or less leveled three of the buildings. Some of them tried to claim he did that but I prefer to call it a very unlucky coinscidence. In the end I don't give a shit because I now have a useless facility, four people trampled badly enough during the panicked escape from the fire that they had to be hospitalized, and this guy in captivity who I still can't find out who he is, and it all points back to _you_ , Stark, and I am not pleased. I'm really not.”

Now Tony himself had a very hard time keeping from grinning. Because his Loki sure had gone all out here. Something must have kept him from traveling to the carrier, and this was his way of getting brought here. Tony was impressed. Loki had royally pissed SHIELD off, let his displeasure with being separated from Tony be widely known, while sparing the lives of the agents and scientists in the facility. And now, he was here. Just like he'd no doubt wanted.

”I had to send Rogers there to kick his scrawny, leather-clad ass”, Fury continued, still looking very annoyed. ”At least it looks like the good Captain did a solid job with that, but other than that this whole situation is starting to piss me off. So you better get to talking, Stark, because I don't think you two will like me when I'm angry.”

All Tony could do was give a onesided shrug; the cuffs wouldn't let him use both shoulders comfortably. If he tried to talk he'd burst out laughing.

”Kind of a shame.” Now Fury sounded eerily calm, as he pulled the tablet and pictures back, eyeing Tony almost sadly. ”I liked you, Stark. I thought we'd be on the same side.”

That made Tony sober up a bit, and he sighed. ”I'd thought so too. And maybe we still could be. You want to keep this world safe, make it the best it can be. I get that, I appreciate your point of view, and in that, we'll always be on the same side.” He saw the brow over the director's good eye arch, and huffed at the doubt he saw there. ”No matter if you believe it or not.” Then he abruptly turned serious. ”But there are lengths you can't be allowed to go to, trying to achieve that. Messing with the Cube is one of those. You have no idea what you could bring down on this world, if you fuck up.”

Fury's eye narrowed. ”And you believe you can handle it, then?”

”No. I couldn't. That's why you're not seeing me try.”

”But you do have it.” It wasn't even a questions.

Tony shook his head. ”I don't.” It still wasn't a lie. And he sure as hell wasn't telling them that the guy they had just dragged onto the helicarrier themselves had it safely tucked away in an interdimensional pocket.

They stared at each other in silence for a while. Then, without another word, the director unfolded from his chair, walked to the door and swung it wide, letting the waiting agents in. No hesitation in their steps as they pulled Tony from his chair and led him from the room, back to his cell. At least they took their cuffs with them when they left him there. Good thing. They were getting uncomfortable.

Once more Tony stretched out on his narrow bed to wait, but he was no longer tense with worry.

Everything would be fine – Loki was here now.

* * *

Loki allowed a few hours to pass after they had thrown him into the glass cell. He felt the world outside calm down, go to rest in the wolf's hour of the morning, and he knew this would be his best time to make a move. They would be tired, unfocused, unprepared.

Here, inside the protective, camouflaging shields around the aircraft, Loki could easily feel Tony's presence, the pull and lure of the mark he had woven into his skin, and he would have no trouble traveling there. But he still decided to do so while invisible. That should confuse these mortals even more, and it would be amusing to know that they were all milling around like ants, wondering where their prisoners had gone, and how.

Wrapped in a concealment spell he flitted out of this silly fish tank of a cage and into Anthony's cell. Where the man was stretched out on his back on a narrow bed, hands under his head, eyeing the ceiling as he waited. Smiling at the relief of seeing him, at last, safe and sound even in this prison, Loki walked closer on silent feet, leaned down, and placed an invisible hand over Anthony's mouth, the cloak wrapping around him as well at the touch. He gave a tiny, startled flich at first, body tensing at the realization that he wasn't alone. Then he relaxed, seeing who it was, and Loki could see his eyes narrow, feel his lips stretch in a smile under Loki's palm.

He slowly took his hand from Anthony's face, placed a single finger over his own still smiling lips in a sign for him to stay quiet. When the man nodded understanding, he instead quirked that finger in a gesture asking him to get up, and as soon as Anthony was on his feet Loki wrapped an arm around him. Then he quickly cast around for the unusually faint but still recognizeable presence of Thor, and moved them both there, still unseen.

The prince was kept in a cell much larger than the one where they had held Anthony, but it was still very clearly just that, a cell. Bare walls without windows, a heavy door, solidly locked. A table with two simple chairs, all securely fastened to the floor so they couldn't be moved or used as weapons. A bed just slightly wider than the one Anthony had been on, and there Thor was curled up under a blanket, back to the room, a mess of blond hair and a bare foot at the bottom of the bed all that was visible of him.

Something painful and sad twisted in Loki's heart at the sight. The prince of Asgard should not be looking so small and lonely and helpless. It was wrong.

With a firm grip around Anthony's wrist, dragging him along to keep him hidden, Loki went sneaking closer to the bed. Tense, ready for any kind of reaction, he leaned to place a hand on Thor's shoulder, enveloping him in the spell too. And then just barely had the time to move his head aside when Thor came almost flying up off the mattress, eyes staring wildly, and then going almost comically round at the sight of Loki. His mouth opened, but before he had the chance to make so much as a sound, Loki had shifted the three of them away from the cell, back to Anthony's penthouse. Where they were safe.

Loki dropped his spell, let go of Anthony's wrist and Thor's shoulder, and waited for a reaction from the prince. Who was dressed in a simple, gray t-shirt and a pair of dark blue sweatpants. SHIELD's version of prison garb, no doubt.

For the duration of a couple of heartbeats Thor stayed staring at him, maybe not sure if Loki was really there. Then he shot forward, caught Loki in a bear hug, and held on, as hard as he could. Once that would have made Loki's ribs creak painfully, now it was nothing in comparison. Still there was warmth, and strength, but only what a large, muscular human man was capable of. It didn't matter in the moment, however, because it still meant that Thor was free, and happy to see him. So Loki held on to him in turn, careful not to squeeze too hard.

When Thor at last let go, he still held on to Loki's leather-covered shoulder on one side, his upper arm on the other, keeping him at arm's length while he stared at him in disbelief. ”Loki”, he muttered, when he had looked long enough. ”It is really you.”

He couldn't help but grin widely. ”It really is.”

”I can't believe you came for me”, Thor said, eyes dropping to take in the rest of Loki's black-and-green leather armour, hands easing their grip and clenching harder again in intervals, before he met Loki's eyes again. ”It's been so long. So long. I thought...” It seemed he couldn't even put words to his fears.

Loki could understand even so. In a reversal of the gesture Thor had directed at him so many times when they had still been brothers, still close, he placed a hand on the side of Thor's neck, thumb brushing his jaw. ”You were never forgotten”, he promised. Because it was nothing but the truth.

And the words made Thor fall into his arms a second time, slumping into his chest now, forehead dropping to Loki's shoulder. The reality of his escape no doubt finally hitting him. Loki let him cling on and stay there, for as long as he needed, and pretended not to see when Thor had to wipe his cheeks dry as he stepped back again. After almost half a year in that cell Loki couldn't blame him for being overwhelmed now, at finally getting out of there.

Now Thor turned to eye Anthony, who was still standing nearby, watching their reunion in silence, and his golden eyebrows furrowed. ”They showed me your picture”, he told the once-mortal. ”They thought I might know who you were, even though they never told me why. I didn't let them know I did, of course, but I should have known my brother was here if you were.” Thor looked back to Loki. ”But I didn't dare hope.”

”You should know I always take care of your messes, Thor.” Loki quirked an eyebrow, giving him a teasing smirk. ”And apparently, I need to pick up after you now as well.” With that he reached a hand to the side, twirled his fingers, and picked Mjölner out of the air before holding it out for Thor to take. ”I do believe this is yours.”

If he thought Thor's bright, blue eyes had gone wide before, now they almost looked about to drop out of his head. His face turned grayish pale under his golden beard as his mouth fell open, and he didn't seem to be breathing. A large hand came to clasp at Loki's shoulder again, but missed, and when Thor's knees buckled he had nothing to hold on to. With a thump of bone on wood he fell to his knees, head dropping forward, and only then did he seem able to pull in a hissing, wheezing breath.

Loki couldn't blame him for that either. He'd reacted pretty much the same to seeing the Hammer in his own hand, after all. So he just sank to his knees too, in a slower and more controlled movement, still holding the Hammer between them. ”Thor?”

The prince wordlessly shook his head, scrubbing his palms over his face without looking up, words muffled in his hands when he spoke up, voice rough. ”I couldn't lift it. They told me it was stolen, but I thought it a trick, a lie to make me talk.” His hands slowly dropped, and his eyes peeked up at Loki through tangles of blond hair, weary and wary. ”It's not mine. Not anymore. Clearly.” There his eyes dropped to the weapon in Loki's hand, a hint of a bitter twist visible in the corner of his mouth.

”Oh, but it is”, Loki assured, not letting the Hammer drop even an inch. ”Anthony and I merely fetched it for you. And used it to get you free. But Mjölner is still yours.”

Surprise made Thor's head twitch up as he threw a confused look Anthony's way. When Loki followed that look, he found Anthony watching the scene with a tiny but oh so smug smile on his face, arms loosely crossed over his front, as if waiting patiently for Thor to – as the humans would phrase it – get his shit together.

Thor still seemed hesitant when he looked back to the weapon, so Loki placed the broad side of the heavy, rectangular head of the Hammer on his left palm, let the handle rest in the open palm of his right, and extended his arms closer to Thor. Very clearly offering it for the taking, not holding on at all.

Returning it to the prince wasn't something he even had to think twice about, really. It was only right. There had never been a time when it had been meant for Loki, and now when he knew that had nothing to do with his worth, or lack thereof, that was easier to accept. It had always been about choice – Odin had chosen Thor to have the Hammer, and when it had still ended up in Loki's hands, he now chose to return it.

As a mage his weapons were the dagger or sometimes the staff. Never the warhammer. Wielding Mjölner had been exhilirating, yes, but he still had his magic, and the Tesseract. He had no need for it, really. It belonged with Thor.

As if drawn in rather than making a conscious decision, Thor's hand at last lifted from his lap and came to close around the handle, wrapped in leather and metal, lifting the Hammer out of Loki's offering hands. He clearly had to struggle more than usual to hold it, but Mjölner had its own magic, and was never anything near as heavy as it should be. Not to the ones allowed to lift it all, that is. And right now, that was anyone.

Even while he watched Thor bring the Hammer to his chest, wrapping his arms around the weapon in what almost looked like the embrace for a long lost lover, the thought that Mjölner was now free for anyone's taking made Loki frown.

He looked up at Anthony, who still looked smug and pleased. ”Can you tie it to Thor once more? A weapon like Mjölner should not be allowed to be handled by just anyone, after all.”

Turning to face him instead, Anthony's eyes narrowed in thought, and then he slowly shook his head. ”No, not while he's in this mortal form. I'd need to tie it to his magic, just like Odin did. Until that is possible, we will need to guard them both, closely.”

Loki nodded, deep in thought of how that should be set right, when a movement in the corner of his eye made him turn to Thor once more. The prince was frowning deeply, glancing between the two of them, a whole host of questions crowding on his tongue, ready to be asked. With a sigh Loki shifted his weight back, got up on his feet and offered a hand to Thor, ready to help him up as well.

”Come. There is much I need to tell you, and perhaps not much time to talk.” And he wondered if Thor would be so relieved to be reunited with who he thought his brother, once they were done.


	17. Chapter 17

”What is it you need to tell me, brother?” Thor's first question came as soon as they had settled on the sofa in the penthouse, and Anthony had slipped from the room with the excuse of taking a shower to wash SHIELD off his skin.

Loki couldn't help but wince slightly at the term of address. He leaned forward to hide it, elbows on his thighs, fingers clasping at each other. ”There is so much, I barely know where to begin.” Watching his pale, twisting fingers instead of the man next to him, he sucked in a deep breath and began anyway. ”But I am not you brother. Not truly. I never was.” There was nothing harsh in the words now, only sadness. The fact still pained him, but the anger had burned itself out, for the most part. And aiming it at Thor was useless, after all. He had never known the truth anymore than Loki had himself.

He felt Thor move, lean closer, until his shoulder touched Loki's. ”What are you talking about?” His voice was tight with concern.

Without looking up, because that was the only way he could make himself do this, Loki told him everything. And perhaps it was because of the long months of isolation, but Thor never once tried to interrupt him, simply listened, quiet and focused.

Not sparing either of them any painful detail, Loki explained his worry about Thor not being ready to take the throne. How he had tried to discuss the issue with Odin, only to be deemed jealous and turned away. How he, in his anger and desperation, had betrayed everyone by letting the band of jotuns into the kingdom – at the cost of Anthony being severely injured. His whispers into Thor's ear, tricking him into the journey to Jotunheim that cost them both everything they had.

Once he reached the moment when a frost giant warrior had gripped his arm, ice tearing his armour to shreds and turning his unprotected skin blue, he was tense and shivering. He had told some of this to Anthony before, but Anthony was... different. This was Thor, the one who had vowed as a child to hunt those monsters down and slay them all, who wanted them to fear him. And oh, Loki had. He still did. For all that Thor was more or less a mortal now, and couldn't harm Loki's body in any lasting way, his revulsion and rejection were still capable of wounding him, just as deeply.

At the very least he had expected Thor to move away, break the connection between them, but he didn't.

In fact, when Loki reached the part where he had gone to the weapons vault and spoken with Odin, when he explained the horror that was his ancestry and his voice cracked, just a little, one of Thor's heavy, warm, still just as huge hands came to close around both of his. Still clutching each other so hard his knuckles were bright white. Swallowed them up in a steady, steadying grip. Holding on to him, grounding him, like he hadn't done in so very, very long.

Slowly, Loki raised and turned his head, and found Thor watching him, eyes sad and pained, but calm. No pity there, just sorrow for something lost that could never be returned. No rejection, just... resignation, perhaps? But something warm, too.

”You were right”, he said, unusually softly. ”I wasn't ready. Too thoughtless and careless, and I wouldn't have listened to you if you had told me so. We all have a part in these wrongs. But perhaps...” His lips twisted as he struggled at little with the next words. ”Perhaps father more than either of us. This could all have been so different, if he'd told you the truth. And listened when you offered truth to him.”

Loki felt lost for words. That was the last thing he had expected to hear. But then he nodded, slowly, stunned. ”Perhaps.”

”And then you left”, Thor guessed.

Loki nodded more firmly, swallowed to remove the lump in his throat. ”I did. And Anthony with me. I have not been to Asgard since, on in contact with anyone from there.”

Now Thor nodded too, lips thoughtfully pursed. ”Tell me about Anthony. I feel like for all the years he's been with you, with all of us in Asgard, I know nothing about him.”

And Loki couldn't help but smile at that. It was so very true, after all. And now there was no reason to keep Anthony's skills secret any longer; Thor had already seen what he could do, and would likely see more before this was all over and done with. So Loki told him, told him what he had discovered the once-mortal boy to be capable of, what he had grown to learn, how he had applied his knowledge to Midgard's technology and found Thor in SHIELD's prison, how the banishment had let him untangle the spell on Mjölner, and then about the rescue.

The only thing he kept secret, for now, was the Tesseract. He felt that he might still need some form of leverage.

Thor was actually smiling back in the end, clearly impressed, when the door to Anthony's private rooms swung open and the man came walking out, steps fast and hard even on his bare feet.

”Sorry to interrupt your moment, but we're about to have company”, he said, voice sharp. ”A group of SHIELD agents just entered the lobby. They're not looking friendly.”

Loki shot up off the cushion. ”Should we fight, or flee?”

”Neither”, Anthony told him, heading for the door to the balcony outside, waving them both along. ”We're hiding. They'll search the place and then hopefully leave. I'm not ready to run from here just yet.”

And Loki could see the wisdom in that. They had not yet made any plans for where they should go, what they should do about Thor, or themselves, and they needed more time. So the three of them once more took shelter under the tightly woven threads of Loki's concealment spell, hiding them from sight and hearing both, and watched as the agents reached the penthouse. All dressed in black and heavily armed they efficiently searched the rooms, calling out to each other in voices muted by the windowpanes when they found the space empty.

One agent collected a tablet and the phone Loki had used when Anthony was to contact him from the helicarrier and brought them both with him as he left. Another knelt down by the table in front of the sofa and reached under it to stick something to the underside of the surface of the table. Then he appeared to talk softly to no-one at all, and finally the last of them left.

They waited for a while longer, then Anthony told him to keep them hidden as they reentered the penthouse, and he walked over to the table, crouching down in the same spot as the agent before.

He hummed thoughtfully as his finger brushed at whatever the man had left there. ”Loki? Feel this thing. Can you sense more like it in the apartment?”

The tiny device stuck to the underside of the table did give off a faint but defined kind of signal, and when Loki cast around the rooms with searching tendrils he did find two more. One under the bed in Anthony's room, another in the bathroom. He could feel more, distantly, on other floors, but they needn't worry about those just yet. Instead he followed Anthony around the penthouse, Thor obediently at his heels, to keep them all hidden while the man's deft fingers dealt with the things, which he explained were there to eavesdrop on them.

Anthony also made sure to darken the glass of the penthouse's wide windows, so no-one could see anything happening inside. Then they could finally return to the sofa, relaxing. Or nearly so.

”They stole your things”, Loki pointed out when he and Anthony reached the coffee table, Thor already thumping down in a seat, looking exhausted. Mjölner placed on the floor, close enough to touch the side of his bare foot.

Anthony just waved the concern aside. ”No matter. Anyone not me – or you – trying to get into those things will make every last bit of data on them scramble to uselessness, way beyond any recovery. They've got nothing. But we've bought ourselves some more time.”

That they had, and now they had better use it wisely.

* * *

Tony had just started to consider what they should do next when he felt one of Loki's long, strong arms settle around his back and pull him into his leather-clad side. He blinked up at Loki's serious face.

”I was worried.”

And Tony couldn't stop a smile. ”Well, I was too, so I suppose we're even.”

Loki wasn't smiling back. His lips were a tight line, and he looked distinctly unhappy. ”They had a concealment spell of their own. Stolen power combined with their own technology. I couldn't see you.”

He noticed the way Loki carefully didn't mention the Cube, and guessed he was still keeping Thor in the dark about that part. ”Oh. Damn. I suppose I should have looked for something like that.” Tony winced. ”Sorry?”

Hands turned him around until Loki was looking right down in his face. ”You should. And you should never do something like that to me again”, he said, voice low and firm, as he settled his hands to cup the back of Tony's head, leaning closer. ”You stubborn”, he kissed him gently, ”thoughtless”, and again, ”brave”, and again, ”fool.”

Unable to stop it, despite the seriousness of the situation, Tony chuckled softly against Loki's mouth. ”I promise I'll try not to, all right?”

With a sigh, Loki let him go. ”That is probably the best I can hope for, isn't it?”

They eyed each other for a moment, Tony grinning, Loki trying to look stern and failing, until they both at the same time remembered that they had company, and glanced to the side. Thor was still sitting on the couch, hands resting heavy on his thighs, looking at the two of them with one eyebrow raised.

”Yes, well...” Tony cleared his throat as he and Loki simultaneously drifted away from the other. ”If you couldn't see me, then perhaps Asgard haven't seen anything of Thor for the last five months, either?”

He let his gaze wander from the stunned look on Thor's face, to the realization on Loki's.

”That is true”, Loki said, slowly. ”I had wondered. Banished or not, it would have made more sense for at least some more... impulsive friends, to attempt to rescue a captured prince”, he added, turned to Thor.

”But they would know I'm free now.” Thor leaned forward in his seat, elbows settling on knees.

”Not... exactly”, Loki laced his fingers together behind his back and glanced away. ”I have been hiding myself and Anthony from sight since we left Asgard. And now you. They would have seen nothing of you since you were brought to that flying ship.”

The prince's golden face darkened. ”They must think us all dead by now.” He shook his head, staring down at the rug between his feet. ”We should let them know that we still live, at least.” Blue eyes came up to plead with Loki.

Tony stayed to the side, silent. This was between the two of them. For his own part he didn't think Asgard even cared if he lived or died. He wasn't important, and that was fine by him. If he never returned to the Realm Eternal he would probably be just as happy.

It was different for Thor, though. He hadn't left voluntarily – he'd been thrown out. By his own father. He had unfinished business there, not to mention a family, friends, hopes and dreams and a future lost to him, at least for now. Asgard was his home and always would be.

It was different for Loki, too. He had chosen to leave, but Tony knew that the revelations that had driven him it were still open, bleeding wounds in his heart. Loki had no family left behind, only the remains of the lie that had been his family, but Tony still thought there were things unfinished there as well. Even it Loki perhaps wouldn't agree, claim that he had washed his hands of the whole thing. It would be a lie though, Tony was sure of that.

”What would be the point, now?” Loki sounded weary. ”I doubt they care about where I am, and you would still be the banished prince.”

”Loki, no.” After pushing himself off the couch Thor stepped around the coffee table and placed a hand on the side of Loki's arm. ”You left them without so much as a word. Of course they will care. Wonder. Worry.”

Glancing away, Loki shook his head. Tony just caught a glimpse of the raw hurt he was trying to hide behind a hard gleam of determination in his eyes. ”They never have before. Why would they start now?”

”You believe that to be true for everyone? Even mother?”

Tony saw Loki's jaw flex as he turned back, reluctantly, and had to admire Thor's deft choice of words. Not denying the truth – he knew as well as they did that Loki had never been loved the way Thor had – but still pointing out that there were those who did care. Aiming for Loki's one soft spot, beside the people in this very room.

”You are asking me to visit her”, Loki said, and it wasn't even intoned to be a question.

”I believe it would make her happy, to know her sons are well.” Hand wrapping a bit tighter around Loki's arm, Thor leaned closer. ”And I know that to her, we always will be her sons. Both of us.”

Loki sighed, head tilting forward in something resembling defeat, but turned to a nod. ”Fine. I will see her.”

The two former princes had just bent their heads together to discuss this visit to Asgard, when the phone in Tony's pocket buzzed again. Frowning, he quickly tugged it free, watching the message and attached surveillance feed on the little screen. Were those agents returning already? But no, there was just one man in the black-and-white, slightly grainy frame. A small man, folded in on himself, hands clasped, light glinting off the lenses of his glasses.

Doctor Bruce Banner.

How about that? Tony felt his eyebrows jump halfway to his hairline. He hadn't expected the man to come to him so soon, but there he was. And Tony was oddly certain is wasn't to apprehend him again. 

Tony pressed the green symbol that would allow the doctor entrance, and then pointedly cleared his throat to get at least Loki's attention.

”You two will need to take this talk to the private suite”, he said when the green eyes were on him, an eyebrow arched to ask a silent question. ”Banner is coming to visit, and I want to talk to him.”

Loki instantly scowled. ”Anthony, don't.”

”It'll be fine”, he assured. ”And if it looks like it won't be, you can get us all out of here, all right? But I want to do this.” When Loki still looked suspicious and unhappy, Tony stepped up to place a hand on his cheek. ”Please? Just trust me.”

With a huff, Loki at last nodded and turned toward the door to the suite. Thor snatched his Hammer off the floor and followed, with one last curious glance Tony's way.

And not a minute too soon, because after that it was only moments before the elevator gave a polite _ding_ , and the doors opened to let the diminutive scientists into the penthouse, for the second time in as many days. He looked even more hesitant in entering the room now, even raising his hands when he did, as if he was afraid there were guns aimed at him. Although probably more afraid for Tony's sake, if that was the case. They both knew what a shot fired would unleash, after all.

This time Tony didn't come stepping up to greet him, being more careful in case this was some trick after all, but at least he gave the man a smile when he exited the elevator. ”Doctor Banner. Welcome back.”

”Thanks. I... um... I suspected you would be here, even though the agents apparently found nothing.” He glanced around, probably searching for Loki and Thor. ”That was quite the disappearing act you pulled back there. Impressive.”

”Actually, that wasn't my work, but I'll make sure to pass it on.” Tony grinned now.

A hint of a smile pulled at the side of Banner's mouth. ”You were right, you know?”

Tony did know, but he let the man speak anyway, curious to hear what he would say.

”After agreeing to go looking for the Cube, I really might as well start believing in miracles. And three men disappearing without a trace from locked cells on a flying helicarrier is, at least, pretty close to a miracle.” He hesitated, hands fidgeting in front of his chest. ”So I think... maybe I should listen to you, if you tell me I haven't tried everything. Benefit of the doubt, and all that.”

”Glad to hear it”, Tony said, and honestly meant it. He still didn't know for certain that he could make things right with the doctor, but he knew he wanted to find out, to try, if he was allowed. Which most likely wouldn't happen today, but talking about it was one step in the right direction. ”Come on in, have a seat.” He spread a hand out in the direction of the couch. ”This might take a while.”

It did. And it was time Tony really didn't have to spare, but he took it anyway. Because he liked this small, unassuming man with his bright mind and gentle smiles, with always so sad eyes hiding the secrets of his rage. And because Tony got to spend that time talking science.

It was worth it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some health issues have been slowing me down, and probably the last chapters won't be coming too quickly either. But they're coming!

Frigga's private rooms were empty when Loki appeared there, the power of the Tesseract shifting him through the unfathomable distance of the Yggdrasil with as much ease as it moved him from one floor of Anthony's Tower to the other. Truly spectacular, this Cube. And all his, now.

The rooms were empty, but Loki knew that the queen would have wards in place to let her know if anyone entered in her absence. He wouldn't have to wait long for her to arrive after sensing his presence. What time he still had there alone, he spent studying the rooms he had once known so well, the soft glow of sunlight reflecting off golden details and the yarns and fabrics for her loom, all in bright and vibrant and rich colours. As a boy he had often joined Frigga here, watching her work, listen to her lessons in magic. Or, even earlier in his life, seeking comfort in her lap, wrapped in her arms. Safe from Thor's wild games, too rough for him, and Odin's so often disappointed looks. Even then, when he was just a boy.

He wondered what the king had ever truly expected of this jotun runt taken in. Whatever it was, he hadn't been able to give it.

But Frigga had always opened her arms to hold him, even so. Rubbed his tears away, kissed his hair, told him of her love.

Perhaps Thor had been right. Perhaps she would still care. Even if he no longer was that innocent boy. At least he could hope that she would listen. Because even if he was there to tell her they were alive, to ease her worry, he also hoped for answers of his own.

Loki turned on his heel when he heard the soft sound of the door sliding open. The leather coat of his armour flared around his legs with the movement. He'd chosen to wear the black-and-green outfit Anthony had fashioned for him, for protection, and as a show of independence. This wasn't his old armour, made in Asgard. This was just his.

Frigga was dressed in a long dress, draping down along her body and making her tall, pillar-like, golden folds of fabric showing rich red beneath. She looked very regal.

With a hand on his chest, he bent his head in a nod deep enough to be a clear sign of respect, without being an actual bow. ”Queen Frigga”, he greeted, formality a shield to hide behind until he knew where they stood. Perhaps she still cared. He wasn't entirely sure about his own feelings. Not yet.

She would always have his love, that much he knew, but could he trust her?

When his gaze came back up to her face, her eyes were dark, a sorrowful smile tilting her mouth up when it looked like it would rather curve down into a frown. ”So you do know”, she sighed. ”I feared that was the reason you never returned.” Frigga walked closer through the room as she spoke. ”We should have told you ages ago. We hoped to protect you by keeping the truth from you, but such endavours are ever doomed to fail, are they not?”

”Protect me, or the tool to take Jotunheim?” He kept his voice level.

”You were never a tool, Loki. You are our son, and we your family.” Frigga stopped just within arm's reach.

”Never a tool to you, perhaps.”

Her lips thinned. ”There is a purpose to everything Odin does.”

Loki huffed out a mirthless little laugh. ”I do not doubt that. For even a moment.”

For a while they looked at each other in silence, Frigga's eyes taking in his unfamiliar armour, his longer hair. Loki noting the golden circlet braided into her gold-and-silver hair. The decoration of a ruling queen.

”He still Sleeps?”

She nodded. ”With both princes gone from the Realm Eternal, the burden of the throne fell to me.”

”I am certain you do better than Thor would have.” Loki couldn't keep back a wry little quirk of a smile at that.

Frigga eyed him thoughtfully for a moment. ”The next time he is offered the throne, I hope things will turn out better.”

He felt himself stiffen, and forced himself to not pull his shoulders to his ears, protecting himself and his secrets. Even though Thor already knew the truth, he didn't want her to know. But it sounded like she already did. ”So do I”, he said, voice even and low. ”He wasn't ready, then. I believe now that he will be, when the day comes.”

That made her give a little gasp and take a quick step into his personal space, expression hopeful. ”You have seen him? He is well?”

Without thinking about it, he gently placed his hands on her upper arms, thumbs rubbing soothingly at the front of her shoulders. It felt so natural to wish to comfort her. ”He is. You needn't worry. He was captured, and hidden, for a long time. But Anthony and I set him free.”

With a relieved sigh she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his back and pressing close to his armoured chest. ”You are all well. I am so happy to hear it, Loki. I have been worried sick, for all of you.” She tilted her head back enough to meet his gaze. Perhaps she saw how tensely wary he was of having her so close, but she didn't pull away. ”I was afraid you would do something desperately thoughtless, but hoped that Anthony would be there for you. Since I couldn't find him either, I hoped he had gone with you.”

”He did, and he held me together.” Loki hadn't meant to be so openly honest, but it came out on a rush of emotion and painful memories.

”Good.” And then she slipped closer again, holding on to him as if she never wanted to let go, and Loki found himself wrapping his arms around her shoulders in turn, turning his head to take in the safely familiar scent of her. Of home. ”I am so sorry”, she murmured against him. ”Things should never have been allowed to come to this. For either of my sons. I have made mistakes, with both of you, that much is clear to me now.” She moved back, wiped streaks of tears from her faintly wrinkled cheeks, and gave him a wavering smile. ”At least you both being alive and well gives me hope that you will one day come back to me. Come back home. That things will be set right.”

”For Thor that shouldn't be an issue”, Loki pointed out. ”You could bring him back this very day. I know he misses you and Asgard and his friends.”

Her smile faded. ”No, I couldn't.” Frigga backed another step, and smoothed out the front of her dress, returning to looking as immaculate as the queen she was. ”You and Anthony would be welcome back at any time you wish, but Thor chose this path when he disobeyed his father. The king must be the one to decide when he has learned the lesson he sent him to Midgard for.”

”Perhaps Thor was... led down that path?”, Loki suggested carefully.

”That makes no difference”, she stated with finality. ”If things had been different, he would have been a king when he left for Jotunheim. A king cannot let himself be led so foolishly. He should have known better. And I will make sure that when the throne is at last his, he _will_ know better.”

Loki gave her another nod, deep and slow, not quite a bow but clearly a show of acceptance and deference. ”As you wish, Queen Frigga.”

She tsked softly, and stepped up to cup his cheek when he looked up. ”It's 'mother' to you, Loki. Always will be.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he leaned in to kiss her cheek in turn. ”Thank you.” He straightened and offered her the smile spreding across his lips. ”Mother.”

* * *

Tony watched the two former princes of Asgard out of the corner of his eye while he poured himself a probably far too large drink of scotch. At least by human standards. He really needed it.

Thor was standing with his arms folded over his chest, head hanging, eyes closed, while Loki was close to him, half in front of him, half by his side, a hand on his shoulder. His thin, pale lips were still moving, offering calming words.

It hadn't gone well, the visit with the queen. Tony couldn't claim he was that surprised. Frigga had never been one to go against her husband's decisions, even when she obviously didn't fully agree with them. She definitely would not go back on Odin's choice to banish their son, not in a public way. So Thor was doomed to stay right here on Midgard, something that had obviously hit him hard.

Partly Tony was sure that was because Thor wasn't used to being punished, for anything. Even less used to the punishment standing when he asked to be spared the consequences of his actions. The months in SHIELD's cell had made him mature a lot from the spoiled prince Tony remembered, but he was still struggling with the reality of the situation where he found himself.

Thor was also – understandably – worried. SHIELD would come after him again, they all knew it, and even with Mjölner back in his hand he was still more or less human. Which was why Loki had insisted Tony stay and guard him when he left for Asgard. And Thor would want to go back to Jane, the woman who had never stopped searching for him since he was apprehended. The agents would only need to wait for him there, and Tony was sure SHIELD knew it too.

”Loki! No!” Thor's shout was vibrating somewhere between horrified objection and quavering excitement, and made Tony's head spin around to find the blond man gaping at Loki. ”You can't do that!”

”Why not?” Loki sounded innocent in the way that meant he was planning something outrageous.

”Father placed this burden on my shoulders! Mother refused to remove it! You shouldn't go against them!”

”Yes, I should!” Now Loki was raising his voice, eyebrows pinched together. ”They haven't seen what I have. Odin is still Sleeping, mother has been blind to your whereabouts for months. They didn't see you kept in that damned cell. They haven't seen how you've grown in your exile. They know nothing. I do! And I say I should do this.”

Thor looked as stunned by this torrent of words as Tony felt. Even though he knew Loki still felt some guilt for tricking Thor into going to Jotunheim, this was far more than that.

Loki pulled a long, slightly unsteady breath and continued, a little calmer. ”If Odin wants you to redeem yourself before he allows you back to Asgard? Fine. But you cannot do that locked in a cell. I will grant you the chance to actually make a difference. It's what I should. Truly.”

”You already gave me back my weapon”, Thor pointed out, voice thick.

”It's not enough. We all know that. And it's too dangerous to let you walk away alone with it when anyone can pick it up. It needs to be bound to you again, and you need to be aesir once more for Anthony to make that happen.”

The noise Thor made then was almost a growl as he turned away from Loki, one hand on his hip, the other raking back through his long, tangled hair. It didn't look like an outright rejection of the suggestion, though. More like an internal struggle between what he had been taught to think was right, and the truth in Loki's words.

And Tony understood what he had offered – to turn Thor back into an aesir. With the aid of the Cube, he could most likely do it, too. And Loki was right. It was the only way.

As Tony sipped his drink, Thor turned to face him, eyes dark and mouth tight with tension.

”And you are certain you can do that? Bind Mjölner to me again?”

Tony smiled around the rim of his glass before he lowered it, and nodded. ”Of course. I undid the bond, I can remake it.” He didn't miss the smug, proud, pleased look on Loki's face at his words and the certainty in his tone.

Thor dithered for a while longer, even though they all knew that this was the only way. And in the end he agreed too, heavy shoulders drooping under the weight of the decision as he gave Loki a curt nod. ”All right. Do it.”

Tony had honestly expected something impressively spectacular. In part because this was Loki's way of making up to his brother, and in part because... it was Loki. A Loki whose magic was now fueled by the Tesseract, no less. It should be spectacular because of that, if nothing else.

Instead it was a rather quiet affair. Loki simply stepped closer to Thor again and placed a hand flat on his chest. His green eyes fluttered shut as his face turned intensely focused, but if Tony hadn't been watching closely he probably would have missed what happened. The way Thor gave a full-body shudder, his back snapped straight, and his hair seemed to turn a few shades more golden. At the same time, Loki tilted forward, nearly into him, the force of his magic like something physical pushing at him. Black hair standing on end, as if filled with static electricity. Tony was sure that if he touched Loki, the air around him would crackle and sting his fingertips.

Then the two men stumbled apart, knees unsteady, and Loki's eyes flew wide so they could stare at each other. For a moment they both let the fact that it had worked sink in, and then both their faces split into strangely similar grins, before they at once stepped into each other's arms. Holding on for a few heartbeats.

While they took their brotherly moment, Tony emptied his glass – now more in celebration than for comfort – put it aside, and then bent to pick up the Hammer from where Thor had left it close to the bar when Loki arrived back at the penthouse. As he slowly sauntered over to the men who were now drifting apart from their embrace, he casually tossed the thing into the air, letting it spin before catching the handle again. Smirking, he glanced up to find Loki giving him an amused look.

”What?” Tony didn't really try to sound innocent. ”It's probably my last chance to ever play with it. I'm going to make the most of the moment, so sue me.”

It was hard to miss the way Thor looked a little bit uncomfortable at the sight of Tony with Mjölner in his hand, but Loki just scoffed.

”All right, all right”, Tony muttered, as if it was a great inconvenience to give the thing up. ”Let's get it over with, then.”

Given the way Thor nearly snatched the Hammer out of his hand, he had probably believed that Tony was reluctant to do this after all. Tony couldn't hold back an eyeroll, but he didn't say anything. Thor had been through a lot the last year, he should cut the guy some slack.

So he just put a hand flat on the head of the weapon, much like the way Loki had placed his hand on Thor before. Actually, he suspected that what Loki had done was similar to what he was about to do; Loki had tinkered with Thor, releasing something locked away deep inside him, rather than give him back something lost. Tony doubted Thor's very nature could truly be taken away in the first place.

He closed his eyes too, focused on the threads of magic woven into the uru, knots upon knots, braids and swirling loops, old and reluctant to shift as he prodded them. But he had done it before, he knew he could do it again, and once he put a second hand on Thor's forearm, pulling at the magic that was part of his very flesh and bone, the spells on the Hammer actually became more amenable to change. Perhaps they remembered the man they had been tied to for so long before, and longed to have the bond returned?

At last, with every strand and thread of Mjölner's magic once more fastened tightly and securely to Thor's, Tony took his hands off both of them and backed away.

”There”, he announced, satisfied. ”It's done.”

For a while Thor stood staring at the weapon in his hand, then he swallowed audibly, and raised his head to let his gaze wander between them. ”Thank you”, he said, hoarsely, eyes liquid and bright as lightning sparks. ”Both of you. I owe you.” He cleared his throat. ”But I still need to ask another favour.”

”Anything”, Loki offered, without hesitation.

”Could you bring me back to Jane? She must be worried.”

”She is”, Tony confirmed. ”She never stopped looking for you.”

It looked like that was about to make Thor's eyes overflow, but he held it back in the end.

Loki nodded. ”We will take you there.” With that he placed his hands on Tony's and Thor's shoulders, and a blink of an eye later, they were all in the New Mexico desert close to a trailer, the shape of it a dark shadow against the setting sun.

Staring at the trailer, Thor looked like he wasn't entirely sure the thing was real.

”This is where we part, then”, Loki said. ”At least for now.”

The restored aesir shook himself and turned to clasp Loki's forearm. ”For now. I hope I will see you again soon, and on a better day.”

Smiling, Loki clasped his in turn. ”At least this one ended well.”

”That it did.” Thor's smile was golden enough to rival the sunset. Then he turned to Tony, clasped his arm instead, and his smile flipped to a thoughtful frown. ”Anthony?” Thor leaned in, keeping his voice soft. ”May I have a word before you leave? In private?”

Tony couldn't completely keep back the surprise at Thor addressing him directly in this personal way. That had barely ever happened. Not even during the centuries back in Asgard. He also couldn't stop himself from throwing Loki a glance. He wasn't certain himself if it was to ask permission or reassurance.

All he got from Loki was a look that could be annoyance, exasperation or suspicion. Or perhaps some of all of it blended together. In any case it was no great help. But not an outright objection either. So Tony turned back to Thor and shrugged.

”Sure, why not?”

He let Thor place a heavy hand on his shoulder and lead him away across the dry, rocky ground until they could barely make out the shape of Loki in the gathering dusk. Tony could still see that Loki had turned his back to them, and that his hands were clasped tightly behind him, so pale against black leather.

”I want to ask you to take care of my brother”, the former prince said when he finally pulled Tony to a halt and turned serious eyes on him. When Tony raised an eyebrow he winced a little, but carried on. ”Yes, he can take care of himself, I know that. But he's also been wronged in the past. By me, by my father, and even by mother. He needs someone who will do right by him, and it seems he trusts you. Like I've never seen him trust before. So I hope that you will be the one to do that, because if you wrong him too, I fear it would break him.”

Tony felt a bit overwhelmed by this sudden, intense speach, and all he could do at first was nod. But it didn't seem that was enough to satisfy Thor.

”I know it would”, he confirmed, as calmly as he could. ”But I've held him together when he's almost broken before. I'd never willingly do that to him.” Tony gave Thor a tight smile. ”He's my whole life. Breaking him would be to tear myself apart too.”

Those bright blue eyes regarded him steadily while Thor considered this. Then he nodded. ”Very well.” A heavy hand patted Tony's back. ”Then I hope to see you both again, soon.”

With that he left Tony, turning on his heel and striding toward the trailer with long, quick steps. Eager to see the woman living there, by the looks of it. By the time Tony was back by Loki's side they could both watch as Thor came to knock on the door, unexpectedly reserved and polite – Tony had almost expected him to burst right in. After a little while the door opened and a tiny brunette stared with huge eyes at the man on her doorstep for a moment.

Then she slapped him.

Tony and Loki were too far away to hear the words that followed, but the sharp noise of her palm against Thor's cheek carried. They both winced and pulled air through their teeth in a little hiss of sympathy. Not that the slap would have hurt that much, but it was obvious Thor would have a fair bit of explaining to do.

”What did he want?”, Loki asked when they watched Jane after just a moment change her tune completely and throw herself around Thor's neck.

”Oh, you know. Just giving me the shovel talk.”

Loki huffed. ”I suspected as much. The fool.”

”Fool, indeed.” Tony moved closer and slipped in under Loki's arm, wrapping his own around his lower back as he burrowed into Loki's side. They still hadn't turned from the little scene by the trailer. ”If I hurt you, the last one to forgive me would be me, anyway.”

For a while Loki was silent, arm settling tighter around Tony's shoulder. ”I thought you said hurting each other was inevitable?”

”It probably is. Doesn't mean I have to forgive myself when it happens.”

Then Loki turned him around so they were face to face, giving him an almost pained little twist of a smile. ”Then I will forgive enough for the both of us. When the day comes.”

With a sweeping thought Loki brought them back to the Tower in the next instant, and Tony's feet had barely settled on the floor before he had Loki's mouth attached to his. Moaning under the almost desperate attack, he let his hands do what they wanted and fly up into the silky tresses of hair, willing Loki's head even closer.

It was just the two of them once more. They had the Tesseract. Thor was restored, free, and safe. Loki had made peace with at least Frigga. Banner had taken Tony's number and promised to let him know if he decided to give Tony tinkering with his DNA a go.

SHIELD was still out there, the only dark shadow looming over their lives, but Tony knew they could deal with that too.

This was enough to celebrate. More than enough.

As Loki at last had to come up for air, Tony glanced around, licking his already sore lips, and noticed that Loki had had the foresight to drop them off right in the bedroom. When he met Loki's eyes again they were thin rings of green fire around blown wide patches of black. All at once all of Tony filled up with a giddy, relieved joy, and he wasn't sure if he shot up on his toes to kiss Loki back, or if he just floated right up, soaring on the sensation filling his heart.

It was just the two of them, and the universe was theirs for the taking.

Although right now the universe wasn't what Tony wanted. It wouldn't have been enough to satisfy this particular need anyway. By far.

Perhaps Loki felt the same, because a heartbeat later they were a couple of inches closer, and an inch or so shorter, when their shoes and every single scrap of clothing vanished in an instant. At once all Tony knew was what felt like miles of smooth, bare skin pressed against him, and he had to take his mouth from Loki's to tip his head back, eyes closed, and just _breathe_. He didn't get much time even for that, because then strong arms came to literally sweep him off his feet, and before he knew it his back was on the bed and Loki was hovering over him, looking hungry and predatory in a way that made Tony's skin tingle, all over.

They held each other's gaze for a few heartbeat's time, without words passing between them. Then Loki moved. He buried his face by Tony's throat, nuzzling and kissing the already heated and probably flushed skin he found there, before he moved lower. Trailing lips and tongue and fingers over everything along the way, only staying away from the seal in Tony's chest, opting to lavish his attention on dusky nipples instead. By the time he had reached low enough to suck another kind of mark over the rune he had woven into the skin on Tony's inner thigh – apparently not satisfied with just the spell marking Tony his – Tony was a panting wreck. Barely coherent thoughts along the lines of _yes please more yes!_ the only thing passing through his mind as he felt smooth hands spread his legs, a slick touch sliding down between them.

As a long, slim, gentle finger found its way into his body, Tony's eyes flew wide open in what was not quite shock, but felt like a wave of electricity had shot through him, arching his spine and locking him rigid. Perhaps Loki took it for a protest waiting to happen, because he went still as a statue where he was kneeling between Tony's legs, supported on his left hand planted by Tony's hip. But when a whiny, needy kind of whimper fell from Tony's lips he flowed back into motion, a slow grin, all greed, spreading over his face.

Tony couldn't blame him. He knew that greed. He felt it himself. The possessive urge to get Loki closer, always that last little bit _closer_ , until they could all but meld. So he could be Loki's, and Loki his, in every and any way possible.

Even as clever fingers manipulated his body, turned him loose and pliant enough that Loki could flip him over on the mattress, slide himself inside Tony to the hilt, drape himself heavy and warm and panting over Tony's back, Tony knew that this was not about this basic act of flesh and friction. Not truly. Not that it didn't feel incredible, making him shout and cry into the sheets and lose himself in the sensation, but every drag of Loki's length inside him stated _mine!_ , and the way Tony arched his back and pressed up into him, clenching in a vain attempt to keep him in place every time Loki began to pull back, screamed the same thing in turn.

Anything they could do to get closer, mark each other, infiltrate the other, mesh, meld, they would do. This was just another way to achieve that.

And when they reached their peaks, Tony spending himself on the bedspread as Loki bit down on his shoulder as he shuddered through his own release, Tony knew the real satisfaction came from what their bodies had told the other.

_You were meant to be mine, and you always will be. Come what may, you belong to me, with me, and I'm never letting you go._

Thor had indeed been a fool to worry.


	19. Chapter 19

The new day found Loki lazily stretched out on his back, Anthony right by his side. The man's bearded chin was propped in a hand supported on an elbow planted in the pillow, while his other hand drew patterns over Loki's chest, spiraling around a nipple, dipping between ribs, painting circles over his sternum. Sheets were tangled around their hips and legs so they could barely move, pressed tightly together just the way they had spent the night, but they didn't care. Just like this was perfect.

At least it was perfect until Loki saw a sharp, bright glint of something new spark in the depths of Anthony's brown eyes. With a sigh he lifted his own hand from the pillow above his head, unwound it from his long hair, and placed it on top of Anthony's on his chest, to stop the now more restless movements.

”You are thinking about something so hard I can almost hear the gears turn”, he said, voice slightly rough with the first words of the morning. ”What is it?”

Anthony's trapped fingertips kept moving against his skin while he tilted his head sideways in the hand still supporting it. ”If I asked you, would you show me what you look like?” He licked his lower lip into his mouth and hesitated, slightly nervous. ”The real you”, he added, as if it wasn't clear what he meant.

Loki felt the way he tensed up, and the way it made Anthony more on edge in turn, but he forced himself to stay still. To not flex his hand and crush down on the man's fingers caught in his. ”Are you asking?”

”I suppose I am”, Anthony said, slowly, softly. ”All you would have to do it keep your hand on my chest long enough.”

As if the ”how” of it was the issue... Loki let his eyelids drop lower, hiding, and glanced away. ”Why?”

”Well, I want to know all of you. See every side there is.” Anthony frowned a little then. ”And besides, this is never going away.” He gently pulled his hand free from Loki's and tapped a fingertip to the seal drawn on his sternum. ”I can't have you spend the rest of our lives together afraid to touch it. That won't work and you know it.”

Mentally casting around for a distraction, a way out of it, he went for the most desperate suggestion he could come up with. ”Perhaps I could remove it? It could work, now that I have the Cube to help me.” Loki settled his palm over one of Anthony's firm pectorals, feeling his heart beat. ”It would probably tear your skin open, but it would be a superficial wound. It might scar, but it would heal.”

A frown pinched the man's face while he bit his plump bottom lip, deep in thought. His own hand came up to rub at the glowing blue circle of cold trapped in his skin. Then he slowly shook his head. ”No. No, I don't want you to.”

”Why not?” Loki was honestly surprised by his answer. He would have guessed that Anthony would happily be rid of it, if he only could.

”Because it's... it's a part of me now. I wouldn't have the suit if it wasn't for this. I wouldn't be able to fly it. And it's...” He hesitated, and his brown eyes locked on Loki's. ”In a way, it feels like I'm carrying around a part of you, right by my heart.”

Loki nearly choked on his own heart, hearing that, and snatched his hand back away. ”What?!”

Hushing him, Anthony cupped Loki's cheek. His fingers were still cold from the icy magic. ”I know this thing isn't exactly a reminder of something pleasant for you. And the magic in there isn't _yours_. But it's something that originated in the same place you did, and even though we'll always be different species, from different Realms, this?” Anthony took his hand back to tap the center of the seal. ”This feels like it unites us. And I... I love that.” He dared a faint smile then.

”You impossible fool.” The smile that quirked Loki's lips in turn was unsteady, but it was there.

”So, will you do it?” There was a hint of hope in Anthony's tone. Loki really couldn't understand how this was something to hope for, but telling Anthony no had never been something he was terribly good at.

With a long, weary sigh Loki let his head fall all the way back on the pillow, closed his eyes, and blindly reached his hand closer to Anthony's body again. Not all the way there. The man would have to close the last bit of distance himself. And he didn't hesitate to do so, apparently, given the way his warm hand closed around Loki's and carefully pulled it closer.

The sensitive skin on the pads of his fingers sensed the cold radiating from the seal before they even touched it, and a shiver slipped down his spine. Loki ground his teeth together and made himself stay still, not snatch those fingers back as they made contact with the man's chest. The cold was disconcerting, even more since he knew what would soon be brought out into the light by it, but the soft skin around it was a familiar comfort. The heartbeat and the slow, calm flex of breaths his palm was pressed to helped ground him, even through the fear. He tried to tell himself that this was Anthony, who had seen him at his very worst already. Perhaps this wouldn't scare him off either?

Perhaps...

He could feel it when the change started. It was an icy, tingling sensation slowly spreading up his fingers, sweeping up his arm, and Loki swallowed tightly through the anxiety, felt it turn into a broken whimper in his throat instead.

Again, Anthony hushed him. Calming and soothing. ”Easy”, he murmured, rubbing little circles into the skin at the back of his hand. Loki could feel his fingertips move over the arrow-like markings reaching from right above the bones of his wrist to his knuckles. ”Nearly there. Just breathe, darling.”

The words made Loki realize he didn't, so he sucked down a sharp breath and made himself let it out slowly through his nose while the tingling sensation spread down his chest and abdomen, up his neck, to his face... He couldn't stop from angling his head away on the pillow, hiding what he could, even though he already knew Anthony wouldn't let him get away that easily.

”There you are.” The man's voice was breathy with what might have been amazement, if he hadn't been looking at Loki's true face.

Anthony's hand left his, where it was still flat against the seal, and skimmed up his arm, maybe following a line in his skin. Loki didn't know them well enough to remember what pattern they formed. The hand reached his chest, clavicles, passed his throat as it convulsed in another swallow, rounded the angle of his jaw, and cupped his cheek again. The palm hot against his skin, but not as searing and burning as he might have expected. So perhaps his cold wasn't burning Anthony, either?

”Please?” It was just a murmured word, but the gentle pressure of fingers against his cheekbone let him know what Anthony wanted anyway.

Steeling himself, Loki let the urging hand move his head back around. Then he first squeezed his eyes shut tighter, before he let his eyelids flutter open. When his gaze settled on Anthony's face his dark eyes were wide, dancing all over Loki's features in turn, his expression slack-jawed.

The warm fingers on Loki's cheek moved, tracing up his temple to his forehead, running down in a semicircle from his hairline to his brow and back up again, the line too perfect to be by chance. Perhaps another one of those markings?

”How bad is it?” Loki heard the rough edge to his voice and wasn't sure if it was this shape talking this way, or just the emotion wracking his words.

Anthony slowly shook his head, eyes still traveling all over Loki's face, until they settled meeting his gaze. ”It's not. It's new, yes, but it's also still you.” He even offered Loki a smile. ”Not going to lie, it's about the strangest thing I have ever seen, but it's not bad. And you're not even that cold. Just... wind-chilled, maybe?”

”And the eyes?” He made himself watch as Anthony's own eyes flitted away for a moment, but then stubbornly came back to his again.

”Will take some getting used to”, he at least admitted, but when he saw the bitter twist come to Loki's lips he leaned in closer, serious. ”I've known your green ones for over two centuries, Loki. You need to give me more than two minutes with these.”

With another sigh, Loki nodded. ”Fine. But no more now. Please?”

Nodding in return, Anthony moved his hand to Loki's picking it away from his chest, and didn't object when Loki closed his eyes, waiting for his pale skin to cover him up once more.

Once he felt like himself, in the way that was a lie but an old, familiar one, Loki turned, pushed Anthony onto his back, and burrowed himself in by his side. Strong, heavy arms settled around his back, pulling him even closer as a soft kiss, tickling of beard, brushed by his forehead.

”You're still mine, you know”, Anthony said, despite the wording not actually asking a question. Just stating fact. ”No matter the colour af your skin, you're all mine. Forever.” He held on a little tighter still. ”And one day it won't even matter, because then we will both be old and gray, and you will be mine then too.”

Rubbing his face into the slight hollow between the man's shoulder and pectoral, Loki smiled to himself. ”Tell me more, Anthony”, he demanded.

At first all he got was warm, sweet laughter into his hair, but then Anthony did tell him, of a future where the stars might rain down dead around them, but they would still have each other. And every word rang true.

* * *

Tony knew that they both saw a future for themselves where they had each other, no matter what else might happen. He also knew that they needed to make plans for said future that were at least slightly more detailed than that.

They fairly quickly decided that they should leave the Tower. At least for now. SHIELD knew to look for them here, and would probably try again. But that wasn't a problem, Tony assured Loki when he looked worried. He had used his tinkering to craft himself a few additional identities, and one of them in particular had been gifted a rather substantial part of Tony Stark's fortune.

Under the cover of this new name, Tony purchased a gorgeous mansion in Malibu, clinging to cliffs overlooking the ocean. Clear across the continent, pretty remote, impossible to trace back to the Stark name. It should be perfect.

After a few instantaneous trips back and forth they had soon moved everything Tony needed to start a new life over in California – computers, tools, his suit, some clothes. Loki didn't need much. He still owned no actual clothes, and all he brought was a stack of books from Tony's library. Anything new they needed, they could buy.

Even if this wouldn't hide them forever, it should throw SHIELD off their scent for a long time, at least.

A month had passed, and they had settled in fairly well in the mansion when Tony's phone vibrated with a message he'd been waiting for; doctor Banner, willing to discuss letting Tony tinker with his DNA.

Tony came sprinting up from the workshop, taking the stairs three at a time, and bounced down on the couch by the windows where Loki was sprawled out, reading in the sunlight. Long, slim hands lowered the book they were holding into Loki's lap, as he eyed Tony curiously.

”What has you so excited then, Anthony?” There was an amused curl to his lips. ”One might think you're a child on his birthday.”

”How would you know?” Grinning, Tony shifted until he was stretched out right on top of Loki, batting the book aside to settle between his legs, which were spreading a little more to make room for him comfortably. ”We have no idea when my birthday even is.”

Loki willingly dropped the book on the floor to settle his arms around Tony instead. ”True. But I can still imagine.”

”Well. Anyway”, he said, trying to get back to the actual reason he was excited, curling his fingers into the fabric at the sides of Loki's shirt. He'd taken to wearing real clothes, the warm cloth full of his scent. ”I got a message from Banner. He wants me to try.” Tony had told Loki about his plans – or hopes, rather – and didn't have to explain more than that.

He had expected Loki to share his expectant excitement, but instead the green eyes in front of him darkened noticeably, and the thin mouth turned to a tense line.

”I don't trust him, Anthony.”

”Darling”, Tony said lightly, as he snuggled closer to the suddenly rigid body under his, ”you don't trust anyone.”

The arms around his back tightened at the endearment. ”I trust _you_.”

Tony smiled a hidden little smile into the shirt under his face, then schooled his features. ”Well, in that case...” He raised his head from Loki's chest and caught the still dark, uncertain eyes. ”Trust me when I say this is safe.” The green eyes narrowed slightly when Loki saw the trap he had walked right into. ”Bruce has had so many opportunities to mess with us now, and he hasn't taken a single one of them.”

”That means nothing.” Loki sounded sullen. ”He could be biding his time, getting ready to strike when you feel safe.”

”He could. But I highly doubt it. He has far more to lose that way than we do, and he's no fool. He knows that.” Lifting a hand Tony caressed Loki's cheek, felt the muscles of his jaw flex as he clenched his teeth. Probably holding back protests. ”You needn't worry. I promise. It will be fine. Bruce will fit right in here; you'll see.”

Loki's eyes flitted away, hiding behind dropping eyelids, and his jaw tightened so much Tony thought he'd feel a tooth crack any moment. Then he suddenly relaxed, resigning. ”Fine”, he relented, but never looked back at Tony when he spoke. ”When will he be coming?”

”I... kind of promised we'd come pick him up. That way no-one can follow him here.” Not that Tony didn't trust Banner. He actually did. He on the other hand only trusted SHIELD about as far as he could throw the helicarrier.

With a weary sigh Loki sat up from his sprawl on the couch, tipping Tony out of his lap. ”Well then. Let's get this over with.”

It was obvious that Loki was far from happy but since he at least agreed in the end, Tony decided to let it be. Instead he confirmed with Bruce that he would be fine with them picking him up in a few minutes, and even through the few shorts words in the typed reply Tony thought he sensed excitement at actually getting to defy all the laws of nature he still hadn't tried his hands at messing with.

This would be so much fun, Tony just knew it.

The good doctor was waiting for them when they arrived, appearing out of thin air in the middle of his rather small but very tidy livingroom. He had a bag packed for a few days, which he slung over his shoulder as Tony stepped up to shake his hand. The smile on his face was careful as usual, almost guarded, but there was a glint of eagerness in his eyes that Tony recognized from his messages. And Bruce didn't even hesitate to step closer to Loki. The two of them just exchanged a curt nod for a greeting, but neither of them made any objections as Loki placed a hand on Tony's and Banner's shoulders and brought them back to Malibu.

Tony had to admit Loki had been right – this must be what a kid felt like on his birthday.

He barely took the time to let Bruce drop his bag off in what would be his bedroom during his stay in the mansion, before he dragged the doctor along for a tour of the building. Everything from kitchen and livingroom area to the swimmingpool overlooking the ocean and then the workshop, of course. Part of which was ready to be turned into more of a laboratory. Tony himself lacked the know-how needed for that kind of setup, but he assumed the doctor would want it.

It wasn't until they were down there, Banner taking in the huge space with wide, fascinated eyes, that Tony realized that Loki had followed them. Every step of the way, like a dark, looming shadow, arms folded over his chest now, gaze intently fastened to the back of Banner's head.

Then Bruce turned around, mouth half open to say something, and his eyes met Loki's sharp, challenging-looking stare, and he snapped his teeth shut without saying anything. All at once the tension in the room was thick enough to cut slices out of and Tony didn't like it. He could understand Loki being wary, he could, but this was ridiculous.

”All right”, he said, a bit louder than necessary, and slapped his hands together to rub them expectantly. The tense silence shattering around them. ”No time like the present. We should get started.”

Bruce blinked and turned to him, as if coming out of far-away thoughts. ”Sure. Right. Why not?” He glanced at Loki, though, as if waiting for an objection or permission or some comment, and didn't move to follow Tony when he walked over to a workstation.

Swallowing a sigh, Tony turned to Loki. ”This is going to take a while”, he said, keeping his voice calm. ”You'll probably be bored stiff. Go back to your book. We'll be up for dinner.”

Green eyes flashed to him then, something dark passing by in them that looked a little bit like hurt, although Tony couldn't understand why. The twist to Loki's lips turned from concerned to bitter and then back so fast it felt like he might have imagined the shift altogether. Then Loki disappeared, without a word. Actually, he hadn't opened his mouth once since they had left for New York, Tony realized.

He kept looking at the empty spot on the floor, feeling bewildered, like he was missing something, until Banner finally came to stand by his side.

”He's... not happy about this, is he?”

Tony huffed. ”Not really. But he'll just have to deal with it.”

For a moment it looked like the doctor was about to say something more, but then he just nodded. And then they finaly could get to the point of the man being there in the first place.

They started slow. Tony spent the first couple of days carefully feeling out the pattern that was cells and DNA and its own kind of threads of magic. Altered in such fascinating and deeply flawed ways in Banner's case. Tony needed to know every detail, know exactly what had gone wrong, if he was to tinker with this. Make it right. It wouldn't do to mess with this if he didn't know what he was doing. He might make things even worse if he made a mistake.

And they talked things over. Discussed Tony's findings, what might be done, and he was once again impressed with the doctor's bright mind. It was easy to tell the difference between Tony's own brand of makeshift knowledge, picked up here and there over the years, and this man's actual education. And once Banner's mind was all his again, once he would be free to focus, he would be even more brilliant.

Tony found himself wondering if Bruce would stay. After. If he asked him. It might be worth at least trying.

During their time in the workshop Loki stayed away, preferring the company of his books just as Tony had suspected he would. But when Tony and Bruce joined him in the communal area or kitchen, he turned to their shadow once more. Eyes always on Banner, taking in his every movement, turning noticeably sharper when he got closer to Tony, but always there. Whenever he could he placed himself closer to Tony's side, preferably between him and Banner, a darkly glaring shield. It was clear he still thought the man was a threat, and Tony didn't feel like he could blame him.

Maybe things would be better once Bruce was fixed up and the risk of him turning to a huge, green rage-monster was gone. After that he wouldn't be the same kind of danger to them, after all.

At night, when it was just Tony and Loki in their room, in their bed, Loki still seemed as intent on keeping Tony close. Safe. And his mind on Loki and Loki alone. Which wasn't even that difficult for him to achieve. When Tony was wrapped up in long, pale, smooth limbs and there were heated words of love and need and want whispered in his ear, clever fingers stroking and plucking and teasing and twisting and pinching and doing things Tony didn't even have words for, Loki was most definitely the only thing on his mind, on his lips and tongue. Tasting and breathing and swallowing Loki and only Loki.

He fell asleep sore and sated and exhausted with Loki still clinging to him. He suspected that Loki never slept at all, that he spent his nights awake, watching over Tony, making sure he was safe.

It brought back memories of nights in the forests of Asgard, when Tony had just been a boy, and he had fallen asleep with his head in Loki's lap while the prince's watchful eyes and the flickering flames of their campfire kept any night-time threats away from him. The memories made him sigh happily, burrowing closer in Loki's embrace, almost smelling the wood-smoke caught in long, black hair, and fell asleep feeling loved, and protected, and warm.

At last, the day came when Tony felt ready to do what he had set out to do.

He was less sure Bruce was ready. He was more fidgety than usual, uselessly rubbing at his glasses every five minutes, checking and double checking every note and calculation and simulation they had ever made and biting his cheek and running his fingers through his hair until he was an even bigger mess than Tony. Who at last had enough, put his hands steadily on the doctor's shoulders and more or less manhandled him down on a chair by thir usual workstation. Although in a fairly gentle manner.

”I've got this, Bruce”, he said, offering a smile and a calm, assertive look. ”I can do this. Just relax, sit back, and let me. Okay? I've got you.”

Tony only then noticed hands grabbing onto the front of his t-shirt, Banner pulling in too large gulps of air and clearly struggling to let them out slowly. But he managed, and gradually he even calmed down. And then nodded. ”Just be careful, Tony”, he muttered. ”I like you. I don't want this to end badly because you actually wanted to try to help me.”

”Not just going to try”, Tony promised. ”I will. And we'll both come out fine on the other end.”

Bruce looked far from convinced, but Tony didn't want to waste more time trying to make him sure this would work. He preferred to just show him. So he simply moved his hands from the man's shoulders to his neck, palms flat against bare skin, closed his eyes, shutting out the worried look on Banner's face, and dove right in.

It would be a lie to claim it was easy, but by now he was intimately familiar with the basic makeup of doctor Bruce Banner, and he knew exactly what he had to do. Every mental move was planned, confidently excuted, and he never wavered. He could do this, and he would.

The imbalance and the faulty structure fought him a bit more than expected, green boiling up and surging against him, pushing at him, willing him away, but Tony didn't let it win. He pushed back, reached, grabbed the threads that had knotted up all wrong, teased them loose, aligned them, and felt the exact moment everything settled the way it should have been all along. The green tremors suddenly settled, everything around him smoothed out, and then it was done. Just like that.

Tony pulled back out, back into his own head, let his hands fall to his sides and pulled a deep breath before he opened his eyes to see the results of his tinkering.

Bruce was a bit taller now, maybe an inch or two taller than Tony, a bit more muscles straining under his purple shirt. Not such a massive increase in size as Captain Rogers had seen in his day, just a hint of it. Something that might have been mistaken for a confidence boost, a better posture and a couple of months with regular visits in a gym.

Most of the change was in the _feel_ of him, his very organism now more solid, calm, centered. The nervous energy that had been crawling under his skin, itching to brust out, making him seem awkward and on edge all the time, was now gone.

Bruce blinked at him. Squinted. Then raised his faintly larger hands and picked his glasses off his face, eyes turning wide as he looked around with perfect, clear vision. He glanced at his hands, put the now useless glasses aside and flexed his fingers, before giving Tony a lopsided smile.

”I think this is going to take some getting used to.”

”In a good way?” Tony smiled back, already fairly sure of the answer.

”Yes, I'd say the best way.” And then Bruce flashed him the widest, brightest smile Tony had ever seen on his usually so calm and reserved face, flew out of his chair, and in the next moment Tony had surprisingly strong arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders in a long squeeze of a hug. Which Tony didn't hesitate to return in kind.

He knew a face-splittingly wide grin was stretching his own mouth to the limit, as well, but he didn't even try to hold it in. This was good. This was really, really good, and he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

After a while Bruce let go, leaned out of his immediate space and gave him a smaller smile that reminded Tony more of his old, timid ones. ”I... really don't know how to thank you for this, Tony. I don't think I can ever repay you. Not properly.”

”Well, you could...” Tony hesitated, rubbed at the back of his neck. ”You could stay? Here? With us? I would really appreciate having someone around to help me in my work, someone with an actual, formal education. That might come in handy.”

”Oh.” Bruce looked a bit stunned. ”I didn't realize... No. Right. Grown up in space. I forgot. I always think of you as being a physicist and engineer and maybe a few more things but you're really not, are you?”

Tony shook his head. ”I'm, well, nothing. Jack of all trades. I pick up knowledge as I go, as needed, make up the rest, sprinkle some magic on top and... Yeah, it's not ideal but it's worked out so far.” Both his smile and his shrug were crooked. ”So I kind of need you around.”

”Loki?”

”No, he's all about the magic. The science isn't for him. While I'm a bit of both, so I need someone like you to balance out the other side. You in?”

A bit more hesitation, but then Bruce nodded. ”Sure, why not?”

Tony couldn't wait to bring Loki all the good news of the day, he really couldn't.

* * *

If there was one thing Loki hated more than anything in this life, it was the feeling of being powerless. He hated it with the passion of a thousand burning suns.

With the Tesseract in his possession, this collection of endless power right at his fingertips, ready to do his every bidding, this should have been the last time to ever feel powerless. Now, when he could do anything, he shouldn't feel helpless. He shouldn't be be forced to watch uselessly from a corner as his world fell apart around him.

Again.

Still that was exactly what was happening. He had to stand there, hands figuratively tied, and watch Anthony drift away from him, a little bit more with every passing day. Which he had feared would happen when doctor Banner arrived. He just hadn't thought it would happen this quickly.

Loki tried to hold on, cling on, really. Sinking claws as deep into Anthony as he could, grasping and tugging and willing him closer, to keep. Forever. But it was useless. He could see it, the way those brown eyes that were usually focused on him with such warmth and intimacy, were now seeing something else. How his thoughts were fixed on things that had nothing to do with Loki at all. It was all about Banner, now, and their work. Work where Loki had nothing to add, couldn't even help, and he wasn't sure he would have even if he had been able.

He hated the timid little doctor.

At least, that was what he told himself when he watched the two of them talking, words quick and excited and their brown, untidy heads bent close together over numbers and equations Loki couldn't even begin to grasp. They thought he was upstairs, reading, but he couldn't stay away all the time. Sometimes he visited the workshop, unseen, just to make sure nothing was wrong.

Loki didn't let himself elaborate, even to himself, on what he meant by _wrong_. The nightmare visions that visited him during his restless slumber on the sun-warmed sofa were bad enough. Visions where the two men would look up from their work and their eyes would meet and they would both lean forward and their lips... And Loki would wake up with a start, heart in his throat, eyes burning with tears he refused to let fall, and he wanted to ruin something. Tear things apart with his bare hands.

But all he could do was stare at the high, white ceiling, thinking about how of course Anthony would be happy to have doctor Banner around. Someone who understood him, offered knowledge Loki didn't have, someone of his own kind, his own species. Someone not a monster. Or at least, no longer a monster after Anthony had made him right again. And he never held any doubts that Anthony could, and would. The man was determined to do it, and Loki knew that nothing would stop him.

All he could do was wait, and watch, and hurt and fear.

Powerless.

It was awful. And he wondered if he should just leave. Let the two of them stay here alone, the way they obviously wanted, let them live happily here with Loki gone, far away. But he knew he wouldn't leave. Not until the day inevitably came when Anthony turned to him and asked him to. Then he would. Because it would make his Anthony happy, and even if it broke him, Loki would do anything for him. But not before he had to.

Until then he would hold on to what he had thought was meant for him, and treasure every warm touch and taste he could still have.

Once he had thought that when Anthony had finally taken care of the doctor's problem, the man would leave. Now it came as no surprise at all when Anthony happy and grinning announced that Banner would be staying, indefinitely, to help with research. Loki was certain this meant it was only a matter of time before he would be asked to leave them to it.

He didn't go to bed that night at all. What was the use of hovering over Anthony's sleeping form now? It was all too late, anyway. Instead, Loki spent the night out on the balcony, standing hour after dark hour watching the stars slowly fade into the beginnings of dawn, spreading from the east. Out over the ocean night still reigned, but from the continent at his back, black turned to blue and gold, chasing darkness away. The last of the stars out at sea were beginning to fade as well when he heard the door behind him open, bare feet padding closer over the stone flooring.

”You've been standing here all night, haven't you?”

Loki didn't answer. Just stayed still as an arm settled around his lower back, Anthony standing by his side to gaze out over the water as well, perhaps trying to see what had captured his interest.

”I've missed you”, the man said, arm holding on a bit tighter for a moment. ”Not just tonight. I know it's my own fault, I've been so absorbed in helping Bruce I've barely seen you this last week. But it's all done now, so things will get better from here on out.”

”I thought he was staying so you could continue your work.” Loki didn't bother making it a question.

”Sure, but that's stuff we can do in our own time. This was something that needed done. The rest is just... well, a bit of fun.”

Clenching his teeth, Loki turned his head to look away even more. Staring ahead didn't feel enough. ”I see. Then I shall continue to keep out of the way of your fun.”

Silence fell for a moment, then Anthony pressed closer, forcing Loki's hanging arm out of the way so he could tuck himself into his side. ”I don't want you out of my way, darling. I want you right in the middle of it. I know our science talk bores you to tears but I'd love you there anyway, if you want to be.”

”Why?” Loki let his head snap back to face him, felt a scowl twist his eyebrows to a knot but couldn't stop it. ”You have someone now who understands you.”

”I have...?” Anthony frowned. ”What?”

”You have someone around who is like you. A human, someone who thinks like you. Speaks your language. Why would you want me here?”

Something like shock bloomed in Anthony's dark eyes. ”You... you're joking right now, aren't you?” Then he clearly saw something in Loki's face that answered the question for him. ”What would make you think...? I don't... Seriously?” He blinked and gaped a little. ”You've known me for over two centuries. I've spent, what? A total of two weeks with him? At the most? And you think he understands me better than you do?”

Loki couldn't meet Anthony's confused stare anymore and glanced down at the cliffs below.

”Darling, that's madness.”

”Is it?” He threw a quick look back Anthony's way. ”Is it really?”

”Really.” Anthony pushed at him, made him turn in the spot until they were standing face to face. ”Loki... Listen to me.” Anthony's warm, strong hands closed around his elbows, dragging him closer and then holding him there. Steady and sure. ”I'm yours. And you're mine. I love you and nothing will ever change that. The World Tree, or fate, or the universe at large, decided that we were meant for each other.” He hesitated. ”But Bruce? He's... he's a friend. The first one I've ever had in my life who got to know me and decided he wanted to hang around. Just because he likes me. He chose me. Himself. And I... need someone like that in my life, too.”

”Am I not your friend, then?” The words nearly cut his throat, but he forced them out.

”Not like that you're not”, the man said, gently. ”You're a lot of things to me.” He moved closer, slipping his hands around Loki's waist instead, connecting their bodies in a firm hold. ”Family, protector, teacher.” Anthony reached up and placed a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. ”Lover”, he added, a hint more breathy, when he pulled back and caught Loki's eyes. ”Partner. Sometimes in crime.” He smirked at the last part. ”But he's a kind of friend you just can't be. And that's fine, that you're not everything to me, but like I said, I need someone like that. And he does too, I think.”

”Is that all he needs?” Loki couldn't help but still feel suspicious.

”So what if it's not?” Anthony's calm, almost careless answer made Loki suck in a hissing breath, ready to lash out with a sharp retort. But the man kept talking and cut him off. ”What he might need is one thing. What I can give is another. I can be his friend, and I want to be. But I can't be more, because the rest is yours.” His hands fisted in the fabric at Loki's lower back. ”I have room for both of you in my heart, in different ways. All I need is for you to trust me on that.”

At last Loki raised his hands to comb them into Anthony's hair, bringing their faces close. ”I trust you.” And he did. He had forgotten about that for a while, stupidly afraid of losing all of this, but he did. 

Anthony stretched the last inches up and kissed him, slow but firm and possessive, nipping at his bottom lip as he moved back. ”Fool”, he muttered, but there was nothing but affection in his eyes as he smiled up at Loki, warm and sure.

”I need to match you, now don't I?” Loki was back in reality enough that he could smirk in return.

”Please don't try”, Anthony muttered, reaching for another lip-brush of a kiss. ”Now, how about we get back inside for breakfast? Bruce said something about pancakes. I've never tried them, but I hear they're awesome.”

So Loki let himself be dragged back to the kitchen, and even he had to admit that yes pancakes were, indeed, awesome.

That didn't mean that Loki warmed up to Banner instantly. He wasn't the kind to do something like that. He did give him the benefit of the doubt, however, and in time he came to appreciate the man's presence in their lives, too. Now that the nervous, tentative edge was gone from his demeanor Loki found it easier to be around him, and he learned that the doctor had a sarcastic wit that was softer and less obvious than Anthony's, but no less pointed under the surface. He was also bright, and had a calm, unobtrusive manner Loki enjoyed.

Loki never fully understood the lure the two men found in their science, but he got enough of it to know that Anthony had been right in what he had told him when they first reunited on Midgard – the mortals were close to crossing the line from science to magic. They had no idea, but they were. 

More than ever he felt that he had made the right choice in plucking the Cube from the reach of their greedy, grasping hands. They might be close, but they were not there. And they had a very, very long way to go before they could handle something like the Tesseract.

As time passed, Loki found himself restless, however. He enjoyed the life the three of them had made for themselves, but he wanted more. Being essentially confined to one house, no matter how gorgeous and luxurious, wasn't for him. He wanted to wander, travel, see the universe.

He spent more nights watching the stars, and he knew that Anthony noticed.

Sometimes he found Anthony staring at his suit of armour, gleaming boldly in red and gold once more, where it stood in a corner of their bedroom. And he wondered if he was the only one longing to get out. Test his wings once again.

In the end he simply asked the question, lying in bed one night, and Anthony looked at him a long time before he nodded.

”It's been good living here. Better than I ever expected. But yes, I want back out there.”

”Where should we go?” Loki rolled over in the sheets until he was half on top of the man.

Anthony smiled, tangling fingers into his hair and bringing their foreheads together. ”Everywhere.”

They talked it over, between themselves and then with Banner, and Anthony decided that he was leaving the house in the doctor's care. There were money enough to pay for it as long as he would want to stay, and no-one would trace him there unless he let them.

Surprisingly soon, they were ready to leave. There wasn't much to pack, and both of them were eager to be off. Even though Loki could tell that Anthony would miss Banner greatly. To his surprise, he realized that he would, too. So when they gathered in the livingroom for a farewell, he shocked them all by wrapping the doctor in an embrace as well, once Anthony had been persuaded to let the man go. Banner felt tense first, but then returned the gesture.

”I'll miss you”, the doctor said, smile a bit unsteady, looking between the two of them when Loki stepped back to Anthony's side.

”We'll be back”, Anthony promised. ”You're going to be around for a long time now, after all. It'll be nice to have a familiar, friendly face to return to.” Then he pulled a shaky sigh, and turned a smile up at Loki. ”So, where to first?”

Loki settled an arm around his shoulders. ”Helheim, I think. I have a friend there, and I believe she would like you.”

”Then Helheim it is.”

With one last nod to doctor Banner, Loki held on tighter to Anthony, and then shifted them out of the Realm that had once birthed the one meant to be his. The one who was his. And would be by his side through all things, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is, basically, the end of this story. Although there will be an epilogue coming, showing a hint of their happily ever after. I just want to - again - say thank you. I really am blown away by how many of you have appreciated this story. You're all amazing.


	20. Chapter 20

**Epilogue**

Far away in the dark, frigid outskirts of the universe, something was stirring. A heavy, armoured figure shifted, a mauve face turning toward pale, distant stars, and bright blue eyes opened. Sensing a force, very far, but strong. Reaching him from galaxies away.

The Tesseract had been taken up.

Across space, the blue eyes could see the one wielding it now.

He was on a world made of dust and gray rock, fighting off a mass of enemies, all dressed in black-and-gray armour and with white masks covering their faces – dark elves. The man flung blue bolts at some, struck others down with a staff tipped in flickering green fire, leather armour flaring around him, long, black hair twisting and curling around his head, lifted from his shoulders by the sheer force surrounding him, working through him.

At his back stood a second man, covered in a flaming red metal armour, his eyes and chest glowing a frosty blue. He had no magic of his own, but it obediently flowed through flesh and bone and metal at his command, turning to blindingly bright rays of ice twisted together with the blue fire of the Cube – the power of the Tesseract freely shared with him.

What manner of creature would wield the Gem, only to give of its power to another?

As he watched, the man in red turned his head half around, saying something behind his visor that made the pale man throw his head back in wild laughter. Then the leather-clad one raised his staff high, brought the butt of it down hard on the dusty, rocky ground, and a circle of blue flames spread out, with them in its center. Reducing their enemies' ranks to nothing but swirling, gray dust, wafting away on the wind.

The bright blue eyes closed again then, turning from the sight.

There were other Gems. Ones that were closer to him and his allies, and would not be so efficiently guarded. He needn't bother with this one. Not yet. One day they would be dead, and he would still be here. There would be plenty of time.

Among the floating rocks the heavy figure went back to rest, waiting.

* * *

The golden light of dawn found Loki sitting crosslegged like a tailor in the little patch around their cottage that might pass for a garden, although it was more of a clearing. New young trees always threatening to sneak closer to the stone walls and thatched roof since they weren't there often enough to keep them in check. It was the closest to a permanent home they had, their place to rest when they needed it, but they never stayed long. Loki raised a bowl of tea to his lips and sipped it, before tipping his head back to catch the first ray of sunshine, warm on his face and eyelids, shimmering in the long salt-and-pepper tresses of his hair.

The soft padding of paws on the ground made him blink his eyes open again, squinting to see a large wolf approach him with ears forward, tail sweeping in a friendly wag. Smiling, Loki took the hands holding his bowl from his thighs and let the wolf know that it could take its favourite spot, curled up by Loki's side and with its head in his lap. It didn't hesitate to take the invitation, making low, rumbling noises of pleasure as Loki used a free hand to scratch the heavy head, searching out the best spots behind its ears and deep in the thick fur around its neck.

When the sun was well above the horizon and Loki's tea long gone, the two of them were still alone. So he took his hand from the wolf's head, making the animal's golden eyes roll up to search out his face.

”Fenris”, he said, giving the name a soft note of command. ”Go wake Anthony.”

The gray head tilted as the wolf listened, then it bounded to its feet, quickly trotted for the open door of the cottage and slipped inside. For a while everything was silent, then came a sudden, sharp yelp of outraged surprise, and Loki grinned up at the sun. A few moments later Fenris came walking back to him, head held high and the placement of his front feet unnaturally wide around the blanket he was dragging along, to drop by Loki's side.

Still grinning Loki scratched his head, earning a wolf-grin in turn, all fangs and lolling tongue. ”There's a good boy”, he praised.

”No, he's not”, came a mutter from behind him, and Loki glanced over his shoulder to see Anthony walking through the almost knee-tall grass while pulling on a tunic over the simple, linen pants he was already wearing. ”He's a damn menace, is what he is.” But while he said the last part he was leaning down to ruffle the fur around Fenris neck, then firmly pushing the wolf away from his blanket so he could sit down on it, and lean against Loki's side. 

Fenris gave a snort and slunk away among the trees again.

”Good morning, Anthony.”

Running a hand through his wild, sleep-tangled, graying hair the man turned to give Loki a lazy little smile, dark eyes hinting behind still drooping lids. There were crow's feet in the corners of them Loki noticed, sharper than usual in the shadows cast by the rising sun. ”Morning.” He stretched his neck and placed a kiss on Loki's cheek. ”Now, why am I awake this early?”

”There came a message from Asgard during the night.”

”Oh?”

”Queen Sif has given my brother a daughter. We are invited to celebrate the birth of the princess.”

Anthony chuckled and let his head settle on Loki's shoulder. ”Bet Thor's pleased to have a girl this time. Those two boys of his were driving him up the wall last time we saw him.”

”Yes, although I believe you might have had something to do with that”, Loki pointed out, smiling and closing his eyes against the sunlight again.

”Me? Never. You taught them that spell that turned all of his boots to left ones.”

”Mayhaps... You were the one to give them all those mechanical cockroaches, though.”

He felt Anthony shrug against him. ”Just for old time's sake.” For a while he was silent, just shifting a little closer, then a hand came up to comb into Loki's hair, black and white strands running through his fingers. ”When do we leave?”

Loki turned and blinked his eyes open, taking in the now wide-awake gaze, Anthony's eyes almost golden in the sun. Nearly three thousand years they had spent together, and never once had there been a day when he hadn't found the man more beautiful than he had the day before. He sighed, twisted around to wrap his arms around Anthony's waist, moving him around until he was straddling Loki's lap.

He made a tiny, protesting noise at the manhandling, but he was still smiling when he now looked down at Loki's face, rising above him like this. ”So, later?”, he concluded.

”Later”, Loki agreed in a murmur as he cradled the back of his head in a palm, guiding him down in a kiss. It made his heart feel warmer and brighter than the sunshine. Asgard could wait a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is the last of it! Thank you all, and I hope you enjoyed!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Mischievous Inventions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11683194) by [The_Firebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Firebird/pseuds/The_Firebird)




End file.
